


When I'm Around You I Can't Think Straight

by Signe_chan, Trojie



Series: Housemates-verse [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Crack, F/F, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pie, Sexuality Crisis, relationship dramas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 10:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signe_chan/pseuds/Signe_chan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which advice is given and followed with varying degrees of success, misunderstandings occur, and it’s up to Garth to save the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I'm Around You I Can't Think Straight

Dean glared at the autopsy report he was supposed to be reading. Not that he needed to - three people, no hearts, no prize for guessing the monster of the day. Fucking werewolves, right on his goddamn doorstep. He didn't understand why monsters even bothered trying around Sioux Falls any more.

Apparently the ones that were still game enough to try it were going for strength in numbers, anyway. The sheer number of pawprints at that last crime scene … 

Sam was on the phone to Garth, which was another thing that was pissing Dean off. Time was they used to deal with shit like this themselves. 'Yeah,' he said, darting a glance at Dean and shrugging. 'Definitely werewolves, but lots of them, man, more than I've seen in one place before. We could use some backup, I guess. And probably some more ammo. We don't carry that much silver. Yeah. Yeah, okay. No, that sounds -'

Dean stood up, checking his Colt. Fully loaded, all silver, and he was fucked if he was going to sit around here while more joggers got their chests burst open. Sam and the cavalry could follow later. 

'- crap - Dean, wait -' was the last thing Dean heard before the door closed behind him. Two minutes later Sam was breathing down his neck again, phone back in his pocket and bitchface out in full force. 'The hell, man?' Sam growled, trying not to alarm the civilians out walking this fine evening. 'You can't just -'

'Job needs doing, I'm gonna do it,' Dean shot back. 'You wait for backup if you want to. I'm gonna get started.'

'And if there's more werewolves than bullets in your clip?' Sam asked, catching Dean by the elbow.

Dean pulled away. 'I reload?'

'Dean, you're going to get yourself killed.'

'So you're not coming then?' Dean asked, and Sam made an angry noise under his breath and didn't reply. Out of the corner of his eye, though, Dean could see him checking his gun in his waistband, like a nervous tic, and he couldn't help smiling. Because of course Sam was coming. Like he was ever in doubt about that. 'Alright,' Dean said, nodding. 

They were gonna do this. Fuck backup. They were the Winchesters.

***

Dean had his back to the wall, breathing hard and raw and as quiet as he could given the circumstances. A baulk of timber was blocking his line of sight, but hiding him from the werewolves at the same time. Sam thudded back next to him, shoulders heaving, and checked the chamber of his gun. 

Dean knew he only had one round left. If Sam was in the same boat, then … well, the situation was not looking good. Okay. No, maybe they didn't need backup but yes, he probably should have waited until they could stock up on silver rounds. 

The door was, of course, on the other side of the warehouse. In between there and here were about fifteen more werewolves, all of whom were probably pissed about the bit where Dean and Sam had shot their friends. 

And it wasn't that Dean wasn't a 'famous last stand' kind of a guy, just that he'd had enough of them that he was kind of aware they were a pain in the butt. 

'Is this the part where we die heroically?' Sam asked, angling his ginormous head to try and see round the stacks of planks. 

'Dunno,' Dean said shortly. 'Never been good at that part.'

'Neither,' Sam agreed. 'So. Ideas?'

'I'd say we should make a break for it, all guns blazing, but I'm guessing we're down to two rounds between us.'

'Three,' said Sam, 'if you've got one. I've got Ruby's knife in my jacket too, but I dunno if it's any good against werewolves.'

'And I've got a boxcutter,' Dean said. 'All I can do with that is fuck them up enough to make them more pissed.'

Sam huffed out a sigh and straightened his shoulders. 'So. We're gonna rush them, then?'

'Guess so,' said Dean. 'Although I gotta say, we've had better plans.'

'We've had worse plans too,' Sam pointed out. 

‘Not by much,’ Castiel interrupted and Dean nearly shot his last round into the angel just on instinct. “This entire situation is ridiculous, why did you not call for help?’

‘Jesus, Cas, warn a guy,’ Dean said, forcing his grip to loosen on his gun. ‘We’re fine, anyway. We didn’t call for help because we don’t need any help. We’ve gotten out of worse situations than this,’ and he knew he was being a complete idiot, because even by their standards this was pretty impossible. He just, he wasn’t ready to deal with Cas yet. Not in a situation like this, either.

It was still too soon and everything had been so crazy and all he could hear was Cas telling him he loved him, which was just ridiculous. Piling into a pack full of werewolves had seemed like a really good way to take his mind off all this shit, and now suddenly here was Cas again, right in the middle of it.

‘We did phone for backup,’ Sam the traitor said, reaching out to lay a hand on Cas’s arm. ‘But this idiot’s having some kind of macho power-trip and just ran in here.’ 

‘I didn't mean summoning your house mates,’ Cas said, shrugging Sam’s hand off. He stepped forward and Dean took the half step back he was allowed. He wouldn’t meet Cas’s eye, not right now. ‘Why didn't you pray to me?’ 

‘Don’t need you,’ Dean said. And, alright, maybe that wasn’t exactly the truth. What he meant was something more like, I didn’t think you’d come, but he didn’t need Cas to know that. Cas seemed to read it in him anyway as he stepped forward, shoving Dean back up against the wall and forcing their eyes to meet.

‘I will always do all that is in my power to answer your prayer, whether you are currently being an idiot or not.’ 

‘I’m not being a idiot,’ Dean protested, but now he was looking into Cas’s eyes it was like he couldn’t look away. He’d always had this damn problem, and he hated how easy it was for Cas to pull him in and keep him here, as though Cas were the most important thing in the universe. Or at least in Dean’s universe. It was horrible that maybe that was at least a little true.

‘I don’t need you,’ he said, instead, forcing his head down. If he wasn’t looking in Cas’s eyes he couldn’t get stuck. ‘I don’t want you.’ 

‘You are an idiot,’ Cas growled, shaking him a little by his jacket, and then all hell broke loose as one of the werewolves edged around the stacks of timber they were hiding behind, and made a play for Sam. Watching Cas smite at full power had always been a little impressive. Right now Cas was clearly pissed and in need of some anger release if the way he made heads explode throughout the warehouse was anything to go by. Dean didn’t even need to use his last round and the entire pack was dead. 

Cas gave Dean one last long smouldering look and Dean felt like some kind of butterfly pinned out for a collector, or maybe a rat being vivisected. Completely laid bare. Then Cas was gone. 

Sam blinked at Dean for a moment and then said, 'That … wasn't an argument about backup, was it.'

'Shut up, Sam.'

'You don't _need_ him?'

Dean rolled his eyes. 'I'm going back to the motel to get some shuteye. You can stand here knee-deep in wolfy corpses and emote if you want to.'

'Dean, seriously, what the hell is going on?'

Dean walked away. Yeah, Sam was gonna follow him. But he could walk away from that too. He could walk away from everything. That was the beauty of the 'walking away' solution. It never stopped working. 

Sam had clearly decided to give Dean 'space' or whatever, at least as far as the walk back to the motel went. He kicked a stone along as he walked, tried to let the adrenaline settle. Because yeah, that had been a hell of a stupid thing to do, and a hell of a fight, and he'd thought they were goners but then Cas showing up and taking charge, _smiting_ to save Dean and Sam … 

Dean couldn't deny, at least to himself, that hearing that flap of wings had made his heart skip. But that was just one of those automatic responses, right? Because of all the times before when Cas had showed up and saved the goddamn day. Because it made him hope they might actually make it out alive. 

Not because he'd kinda thought he might never hear those wings again. 

Behind him he heard Sam's phone go off quietly, and Sam answered it. 'Hi Garth. Yeah, no, we're good. Sorry. No, Cas showed up. Job's all done. No, he's gone again. No, I have no idea. We're good - we're fine. We'll come home tomorrow - yeah, okay. Thanks. Alright. See you then. Bye, Garth.'

Sam caught up as Dean unlocked their motel room door. 

'You want a beer?' he asked quietly, letting Dean hold the door for him. He dragged off his jacket and tossed it on the bed furthest from the door, heading into the little kitchenette. 'Or to explain yourself, maybe?'

Dean sighed. 'What happened to the good old days where we just let ourselves repress shit, man?'

Sam handed him a beer and sat down on his bed. Dean grudgingly did the same, so they were facing each other across the half-a-foot wide strip of space between motel room beds. The whole thing felt too familiar. 'The Apocalypse, Dean,' Sam said. 'Remember?'

If Sam was the one bringing up the Apocalypse, it had to be a pretty serious feelings-talk they needed. Dean made a face, swallowed half his beer down. 

'I don't know what you wanna hear, man.'

'I wanna know what's up with you and Cas,' Sam said. 'Don't tell me there isn't anything, or there isn't any 'you and Cas' - okay, fine, maybe whatever's up isn't what Charlie insists it is, and maybe we've all been misreading your friendship all these years, but you can't say there's _nothing_ going on. You two had a bust-up, and now you're hurting over it. Tell me why, Dean.'

Dean rolled the beer bottle between his palms, trying to think. 'It's not … I don't even know,' he said, shrugging. 'I thought I knew where we stood.'

'And now you don't?'

'People don't just change, right?' Dean asked, still staring at the bottle. He didn't want to see how Sam was taking this whole thing. 'Like, what would you do if someone you'd known a long time, someone you thought you knew better than anyone, and you thought they knew you too, just … what if it turned out they had a completely different read on the situation?'

'Are we talking about … is this what happened after that thing with the Kumiho?' Sam asked. 

'Tell me what you'd do,' Dean insisted. 'If it turned out that you'd had everything the wrong way round with someone.'

'Depends,' Sam said slowly. 'I think … I think I'd still want to be their friend. Even if they didn't feel that way about me.'

Dean looked up, confused. Sam had his 'understanding cop' face on, and … totally had this the wrong way around. 'Wait, no,' Dean said. 'Not - no. Christ, how many times do I need to say this, Sam?'

Sam squinted at him. 'I thought you said -'

'I'm not - I don't think about guys that way, Sam! Not ever! And Cas is -' He looked away for a moment, overwhelmed. 'He's my friend. He's a guy, who is my friend, and who has some problems with personal space, and yeah I love him but I don't _love him_.'

‘So … this argument … If you didn’t say anything to him, then he said something to you?’ 

‘He doesn’t know what he’s saying,’ Dean argued, thought he knew that wasn’t really true. Cas knew exactly what he was saying, he’d made that clear, and Sam didn’t seem to be buying it either, if the way he was raising his eyebrow was anything to go by. 

‘I hope that’s not what you said to him.’ 

‘Just shut up,’ Dean groaned, putting his bottle on the bedside table and burying his head in his hands. ‘It doesn’t matter what he said or what I said. It’s all just ridiculous, and this would have never happened if I didn’t live in a ridiculous house of freaks. We were fine until Charlie started putting ideas into his head.’ 

‘Seriously, you really believe that? Because Charlie’s only saying it like she sees it and, hey, turns out she was right about Cas at least.’ 

‘It’s not just Charlie,’ Dean said with a dismissive wave. ‘Hell, he probably saw you fucking Kevin and got ideas.' Dean hated being on the defensive. Attack was always better. And okay, this was probably seriously below the belt but what the hell, the whole subject had been bugging the hell out of him since he found out about it. If Sam was gonna give him the Spanish Inquisition over Cas, he was gonna retaliate tit for tat. So he glared at Sam and demanded, 'What the hell happened to you, anyway - you used to be straight.’

‘Oh no, I’m not apologising to you about Kevin,’ Sam said, gripping his beer tighter. ‘Alright, maybe I never told you I'd been with a guy before, but _people change_ , Dean. And it’s … it’s like it’s something I can’t help. Being with him.’ 

‘You could have helped it pretty easily by not sticking your dick in him,’ Dean said, though Sam was exhibiting what Dean generally referred to as his bitchface, which was a danger signal. 

‘No,’ Sam said, reaching over to grip Dean’s arm. ‘You’re really not getting it, are you. I don’t just sleep with Kevin, I’m in a relationship with Kevin. If we’d never slept together then all the other stuff, the part where I like him one hell of a lot and he likes me, and sometimes the best bits of my day are seeing him and talking to him, that would all still be there. That’s the thing, Dean. I didn’t ask for all this, but denying myself the happiness I get from Kevin because he’s got something different in his pants from what I’m used to? I think we’ve both been through enough shit that we can agree there’s no point denying ourselves happiness when it throws itself at us.’ 

‘It might not matter to you, but it matters to me,’ Dean growled. ‘I’m not gay.’ 

‘Neither am I!’ Sam replied, throwing his hands up in the air. ‘I’m just … flexible? I guess. Look, Dean. If Cas makes you happy, don’t you deserve to at least give it a try?’ 

‘I don’t want Cas,’ Dean said, repeating his words from earlier, though he knew they were no more true now than they had been then. Because, dammit, what Sam said was actually making some sense, and the things Sam said weren’t allowed to make sense. Sam was meant to be a normal guy just like him, but here he was was telling Dean to go out and be gay and he couldn’t … but he fucking _missed_ Cas. Missed him so much some days it was all he could do to not just pray for Cas to come down and actually talk - to sort this out. 

Everything had been good. He could have gone through life how it was before Cas decided to change everything and it turned out everyone he knew was gay. 

He’d thought about asking Cas for things to just be the same, but it was like it was broken now. How could he be best friends with a guy who had basically asked for them to screw? It wasn’t the kind of thing you could just overlook. Honestly, he’d expected it to weird him out more. He’d expected to be disgusted, but when he thought about it all he felt was this tightening in his gut. Not a bad kind of tightening either. 

The thing was, when you took the sex out of it, he didn’t mind the idea. He liked the thought of Cas being around more, of him having more time just for Dean. They could spend time together - he _missed_ spending time with Cas. It was like Sam said, the best bits of his day were the bits Cas filled.

… but the sex thing ...

‘Look, just think about it,’ Sam said, leaning over and squeezing his arm. ‘It’s really not so bad, I think it might even be good for you. Think about it - I’m going to call my boyfriend.’ 

Dean tried not to wince at the word 'boyfriend', but he kind of failed. Boyfriend, that was an entire other thing. He didn’t want to think about Kevin and Sam in terms of boyfriends, it was maybe just easier to think of them fucking. Only … that was kind of what they were. That was what Sam was talking about. Not a quick fuck and back to normal ... but boyfriends. 

Was he even capable of being a boyfriend? He’d been pretty shitty at it every time he’d tried so far. Was Cas even capable? Did he even want to be Cas’s boyfriend? 

‘I don’t need Cas,’ he said again, but Sam had already left the room and, really, what was the point in lying to himself? 

***

Sam leant back against the cool metal of the Impala's passenger door and waited for Kevin to pick up the phone. It was pretty late, sure, but then again Kevin's sleep schedule was always screwy, thanks to his unhealthy study habits. Sam kinda felt like he should say something, sometimes, but then again he still hadn't managed to get into the habit of having more than five hours sleep a night, or regularly using his bed rather than just dozing on the kitchen table, so who was he to talk?

'Kevin Tran,' Kevin said, picking up the phone. 'Hey, Sam, how'd the hunt go?'

He sounded tired and content and Sam kind of just wanted to be with him right now, watching a movie or something. He wished they were both home, and that Dean and Cas weren't fighting. He even wished they were all getting owned by Garth on the Xbox, because that would be better than spending another night in a motel room watching Dean drink his angst away. 

'Sam?' Kevin asked, a little more worried. 'You there?'

'Hey, yeah. Sorry. Just good to hear your voice, y'know?' Sam scrubbed at his eyes with his free hand.

'That bad a day, huh?' Kevin asked. 

'You would not believe me if I told you how bad,' Sam said. 'Dean charged us into a full-on like, werewolf army without enough ammo.'

'Jesus, are you okay?' Kevin demanded, startled. 'I thought you were gonna get Garth in for backup if it looked bad? You're only an hour out of home! I didn't see anything in my last vision, I thought you guys would be -'

'We're fine, we're fine,' said Sam, cutting through. 'Cas showed up.'

'... oh. Ohhhhh,' Kevin said. 'Um. On a scale of one to that time my mom found that folder on my hard drive, how awkward was it?'

Sam sighed. 'Like … your mom walking in on us.'

'Dude, don't even say it, you'll make it happen.'

'Cas saved our asses and called Dean an idiot,' Sam said, trying to keep on topic rather than picturing Mama Tran's face if she saw him corrupting her son. 'And I'm pretty sure he was mostly not talking about the whole 'attacking a pack of werewolves single-handed' thing.'

'Jeez, what the hell is with those two?'

'Well, I think … uh, I might have a better idea about that now,' Sam said, hedging. On the one hand, he wanted to tell someone and Kevin was a better option than Charlie or Garth. But on the other hand, Dean had a right to some privacy. 

'Oh, really?'

'Yeah. Um. It's kind of what we thought, but kind of not.'

Sam could practically see Kevin's eyes rolling. 'Winchester,' he said sternly. 'Spill.'

'There's not really much more to -'

'- Or I start withholding privileges.'

Sam glared, for all the good it did. 'I just. Fine. Apparently Cas confessed some feelings, or something, and Dean's freaking out because he's 'not gay'. That's all.'

'By which he means he thinks he's gonna have to put stuff up his butt, and he's freaking out,' Kevin said flatly, and Sam snorted. 'This wouldn't even be an issue if Cas had a female vessel, would it.'

'Actually I think it probably still would,' Sam said. 'The 'not gay' stuff sounds like one of his lame excuses to me.' He leaned back and looked up at the clear black sky. 'God, I just don't even know what to do except leave him to it, and that hasn't exactly been working for the past few weeks. I guess he just needs to work through it. I shouldn't be trying to force it.'

Kevin laughed. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'But that strategy completely bombed for me with you, and you're kind of the more reasonable one of the two of you about this stuff. Cas needs to get in there and get some, man. The only way Dean's gonna get over this is if someone hits him in the head with it.'

‘I don’t know,’ Sam said, imagining the look on Dean’s face if anyone were to suggest that to him. ‘Dean’s not exactly in a listening mood. He’s really, really hung up on this gay thing and, well, it is a big change for them, I guess. It’s not like Cas is Dean’s only friend any more but he’d still one of his most important friends ...’ 

‘Probably actually his most important friend,’ Kevin agreed. 

‘I can see him not wanting to shake that up. Maybe we should just, I don’t know, introduce him to the idea softly? I mean, we’re kind of his only role models for this kind of relationship, right? If we show him that we’re happy, maybe he’ll take the hint and let himself be happy too?’ 

‘Have you ever known Dean to take a hint?’ Kevin asked. Sam sighed, shaking his head. Dean _was_ capable of taking a hint when he wanted to, but most of the time he just wasn’t interested. He almost definitely wasn’t here. 

‘Do you have a better plan?’ he asked. Kevin didn’t say anything for a few seconds and Sam found himself smiling. He could imagine the look on Kevin’s face as he thought the problem through. He liked Kevin’s problem-solving face. He wished he was there right now to reach out and touch - long-distance relationships kind of sucked. 

‘I think we need to bring in the big guns for this,’ Kevin said finally. ‘Dean and Cas are both stubborn. They’re not going to listen to us, let’s just accept that. So we need to bring in someone they will listen to.’ 

‘I don’t think there’s anyone in the world Dean will listen to when he’s in this kind of mood -’ 

‘My mom,’ Kevin interrupted. ‘ _Everyone_ listens to my mom. She’s like a force of nature.’ 

‘That is true,’ Sam agreed. ‘I just … I really don’t want the entire world knowing about this yet. Not when Dean’s still so defensive about it. I’m just … I just want to do things my way for a little while and then we can bring other people in if it sucks.’ 

‘I guess that makes sense,’ Kevin agreed with a sigh. ‘Besides, if I phone my mom she’ll probably go visit you and Ikindoftoldheraboutus.’ 

‘What?’ Sam asked, trying to make out what Kevin had said. 

‘I talked to her about you, and us. I just about talked her out of going over there and giving you a piece of her mind, I think. She’d probably take this thing with Dean as an invitation to go over and then … yeah.’ 

‘Kevin, I’m not scared of your mom.’ 

‘You should be,’ Kevin said, glum. ‘I kind of wish I hadn’t told her but, well, she knew something was up and I don’t like lying to her, not after everything I’ve been through.’ 

‘No, it’s fine,’ Sam reassured him. ‘I don’t mind her knowing, I’m just kind of surprised she hasn’t phoned me up at least to tell me off for, I don’t know, sullying you or whatever.’ 

‘We talked about that, I pretty much told her that if she tried to defend my virtue I’d never speak to her again.’ 

‘Serious?’ Sam asked with a laugh. ‘Thank you.’ 

‘Well, we only just got to a place where we’re making sense. I can’t let my mom kill you yet. I think I’ll save that for if you ever hurt me. I can’t be held responsible for her then.’ Sam laughed, though he knew he shouldn't because he was pretty sure she _would_ hurt him if he ever hurt Kevin. Not that he intended to ever hurt Kevin, not again. 

‘I miss you,’ he said before his brain could filter his mouth. 

‘I miss you too,’ Kevin said, quiet, and suddenly he seemed too damn far away. Far enough that Sam wanted to start the car and drive over there right now to fold Kevin up in his arms and keep him there. ‘We’re being ridiculous. Go to bed, I’ll phone you tomorrow.’ 

‘Yeah,’ Sam said, straightening up. He couldn’t go to Kevin, not tonight. Dean might be being an ass at the moment but Sam still wasn’t about to leave him stranded in the middle of nowhere. ‘Talk to you soon.’ 

‘Bye,’ Kevin said, and then the line went dead. Sam listened to it for a few seconds before his phone disconnected. 

When he went back to the motel room Dean was pretending to be asleep. Sam let him be. 

***

The drive home the next morning was quiet. Too quiet, to quote an old war movie.

***

Charlie was up early, for her (so, just after lunch), trying to find all her gear for a camping trip with Becky and get it into one place, and failing utterly, when the phone rang. It was the house phone, not one of the FBI, Wildlife Service, regular local police, 911, CIA or Homeland Security phones, so she figured it was safe enough to pick up. Pretty much the only people who had this number were people who at least occasionally lived here. She grabbed it before it could wake Sam, who was snoring somewhere in the living room.

'Bradbury-Fitzgerald-Tran-Winchester residence, Charlie speaking,' she said in her best 'secretary' voice. 

'Oh my God, Charlie, what if the authorities get this number? Are you crazy?'

Charlie rolled her eyes. 'Hi Kevin. Nice to talk to you too. Sorry, Sam's sacked out right now, he can't come to the phone.'

Kevin sighed. 'Tell me he made it to his room this time?'

Charlie peered through the open kitchen doors through to the living room, where there was a conspicuously large pair of feet hanging over the end of the couch. 'Nope, but he did manage to make it to the couch? So he's fully horizontal, which is an improvement?' She tiptoed a bit closer. 'And the dog's sleeping on him, so at least he's warm?'

'And at least he's actually sleeping,' Kevin added. Charlie refrained from commenting on how much he sounded like his mom. 'Look, could you get him to give me a call when he wakes up?'

'Sure,' Charlie said, going and poking through Sam's recipe book shelf and finding a text on herbal witchcraft that she was pretty sure shouldn't be kept in a food preparation area, but not her copy of Camp Cookery. 'Hey, do you know what happened on their job yesterday? I heard them come home at ass o’clock this morning, Dean's been shut up in his room ever since and, well, Sam's basically passed out.'

'They're tired?' Kevin said, but he sounded cagey. Charlie pounced. Metaphorically. While continuing to look for her camping gear.

'Uh-uh, you know something. Come on, Tran.' Ahah, there were her camping pans, under the sink … with the emergency demon-summoning bronze chalice. She dumped them in the sink and made a mental note to remember to wash them before packing. 'There was drama. There was totally drama. Badly-lit roadside motel drama. I can tell from your silence. I know you're banging a Winchester now but you're not going over to the Dark Side. You, me and Garth have to do the sharing and caring for everyone, so _spill_.'

'I don't even know that much -'

Charlie pinned the phone between face and shoulder and went digging in the fridge for potential food to take with her. 'Dude, you can't let them endanger the world with their repression. Again.' She squinted into the depths of the appliance. 'Aw dammit, there's only pie in here. Again.'

'Get out of that fridge, you don't know where it's been,' Kevin said. 'You might catch something.'

'You sound like your mom. And you're not getting out of this. Tell me the juicy, juicy Winchester gossip or I'll make Becky read you her Sam fanfic.'

'You play dirty pool,' Kevin said resentfully. 'Fine. All I know is, Cas showed up and saved their stupid asses, and he and Dean had some kind of Moment, and Sam thinks Dean's having a gay freakout -'

'- Dean has been having a gay freakout since I met him -'

'- and so basically we've all been right all along.' 

'Oh my God, does this mean I can break out the rainbow pie recipe?'

Kevin made a noise like a dying seal at the other end of the line. 'God, no, Charlie, don't say anything. Sam will kill me and bury me out in the sad patch at the back of the house with the Leviathan heads and the sixteen-week-old burritos.'

'Okay, okay, I won't say anything,' Charlie said airily, already plotting. 

'Charlie ...' Kevin sounded very much like he didn't believe her. It was hurtful. 'I don't trust you.'

'You're as bad as the boys. I promise you, no-one will ever know you broke the sacred covenants of manly pillow-talk.' Charlie could practically _hear_ Kevin's suspicious squint on the other end of the line, but eventually he sighed.

'Fine. Look, just get Sam to call me, yeah?'

'Sure thing, buddy. Bye!'

Charlie hung up. She had so much to do now! Dean to unrepress, possibly rainbow pie to bake … She needed to Skype Becky ASAP. 

This week was getting better and better. 

***

Dean woke up to the smell of baking, which was kind of the best way to wake up. He’d learnt that one of the perks of living with other people was that sometimes they made food and, when they did, sometimes he got to eat it too. He shoved himself out of bed and grabbed a clean t-shirt, changing in to it quickly and heading downstairs to the kitchen. 

‘Dean,’ Charlie exclaimed, turning around from where she was washing something in the sink. ‘I’m so glad you’re awake, I made you a pie!’ 

‘You made me a pie?’ he asked suspiciously. Nobody had ever made him a pie before, especially not without his having to ask for it first. That probably meant the pie was poisoned in some way, which sucked. Or a new recipe, or a weird flavour. 

‘Of course I did,’ Charlie said, shaking the foam off her hands and moving in for a hug. ‘You so deserve a pie right now.’ 

‘Am I dying?’ he asked, standing still while she squeezed his shoulders. He’d move away but he’d learnt there wasn’t much point in trying that in their house - people just followed you until you gave in and hugged them. 

‘Of course not,’ she said, pulling back. ‘It’s just that you’ve had a tough time and you’ve come a long way and you now deserve pie.’ 

‘Nothing’s changed since yesterday,’ he assured her, pushing her back a little so he could step around her. ‘And not that I don’t love pie, but I ain’t gonna eat this until you tell me what it’s for.’ 

‘That’s kind of ungrateful,’ Charlie said, going over and opening the oven door. Dean nearly lost his determination to wait until he had an answer then, but he wasn’t going to eat a pie and then end up being bribed into whatever ridiculous thing Charlie thought he’d done to deserve it. 

‘Yeah, well I’m kind of an ungrateful guy,’ he said. ‘What kind of pie is it?’ 

‘It’s a rainbow pie!’ she said, setting it down on the counter. ‘I guess I’m probably getting ahead of myself a little but I hear you were finally making progress and I thought I should encourage you and, hey, nothing encourages Dean Winchester quite like pie.’ 

‘What the hell did you hear?’ Dean asked, dread settling in his stomach. Charlie looked up from where she was cutting the pie. 

‘No details, I promise,’ Charlie said, grabbing a knife and slicing into the pie. It didn’t smell like anything he wanted to eat any more. He wasn’t an idiot, Charlie had been threatening to bake him a rainbow pie when he finally came out for years, and that meant someone had talked. It meant _Sam_ had talked, because Sam was the only one who really knew anything. 

‘Sam,’ he shouted, turning and walking out of the room. Sam emerged from the library, book in hand and Dean didn’t let him speak. ‘You talked to Charlie?’ 

‘What, no!” Sam protested. ‘Wait, what about?’ 

‘About what we talked about in the motel,’ Dean clarified. 

‘Of course not. That was just between us, I’m not going to go telling Charlie. Give me some credit.’ 

‘Then can you explain to me why Charlie’s baked me a rainbow pie?’ 

‘Oh shit,’ Sam cursed, bringing his hand up to rub at his face. ‘Dean, whatever’s happened I swear I did _not_ tell Charlie. If she heard something it wasn’t from me.’ 

‘But you did talk to someone?’ 

‘I might, maybe, have mentioned it to Kevin. It’s no big deal, we talk about things like that together.’ 

‘You had no right,’ Dean growled, and he could punch a wall right now. It wasn’t fair, he’d still not really even sorted this out in his own head and now everyone knew. It was probably all going to be useless anyway, this was all such a ridiculous mess and it could only get worse from here. ‘It’s my business.’ 

‘So, Kevin was right?’ Charlie interrupted. ‘You are ...’ 

‘I am 100% straight,’ Dean yelled, punching the door frame for emphasis. ‘I don’t care what Kevin says or what you think or even what Cas thinks, I’m not gay.’ 

‘It’s alright, I believe you,’ Sam protested. He took a step closer but Dean pulled back. He didn’t want to do the talking and feelings crap, not right now. ‘I just … maybe you should just use this as an opportunity to admit that, though you’re not gay, maybe you’re not entirely straight either.’ 

‘Fuck you, Sam,’ Dean growled, then turned and walked out of the door. He couldn’t deal with any of this right now, he needed to blow off some steam before he did something really stupid like hit someone, or go get drunk and pick up a woman, or admit that they weren’t actually entirely wrong about him ... 

***

Kevin picked up the phone on the third ring and Sam didn’t wait for a greeting. 

‘I can’t believe you told Charlie,’ he said, gripping the phone tight. ‘She is the absolute worst person you could have told, she has all the subtlety of a brick! You might as well have taken out a primetime TV ad!’ 

'She threatened me!' Kevin protested. 'I don't know how she even knew but she figured out I wasn't telling her everything and then she totally went against the Geneva Convention on me.'

'I don't care what she threatened you with, you shouldn't have told her. You know what Dean's like, if he thinks everyone's ganging up on him he's gonna fight tooth and nail to avoid doing anything we think he should, no matter what.'

'Look, I'm sorry,' Kevin said, and he did sound it, genuinely. 'I didn't think.'

'No, you didn't,' Sam agreed, trying to keep bitterness out of his voice and probably failing. 'Look, what's done is done. I'll just … deal with the fallout, I guess.'

'Sam -'

'I know, you're sorry. You should get back to class or whatever. Bye, Kevin.'

'Bye -'

Sam regretted calling, and regretted hanging up like that, as soon as he'd done it. But then he looked over and saw Charlie's 'rainbow pie' cooling on the benchtop and felt even worse. This was not how this whole thing was supposed to go. 

***

Dean nearly punched the wall in his bedroom as well, he was so angry with … everything. Brother, housemates, life, _Cas_. But then there'd be damage to fix, and either he'd have to do it himself or Sam would have to come in here with the plaster and the trowel and the recriminations and the puppy-dog eyes … and Dean couldn't take any of those things right now. So he punched his pillow, for all the good that did at relieving his feelings, and sat on the edge of his bed and fumed. Just like the good old days. 

Why the fuck was it so hard for everyone to get their heads around this? 

Whatever 'this' was. 

And why did he still want to talk to Cas so badly, why did he miss him so much, when he was so angry with him for his little 'confession' ruining their friendship?

Dean clearly couldn't talk to Sam, that much had been proven, and he wasn't going to talk to Charlie or Kevin, and he sure as shit couldn't talk to Cas anymore. But he had to talk to someone or he felt like his head was going to explode.

There was a knock at the door. 'Dean, bro, it's Garth,' said Garth, muffled through the wood. Jesus that man had freakish timing. 'You okay in there, buddy? You wanna talk?'

'No,' said Dean as harshly as he could, because talking to Garth was going to be as bad as talking to Charlie except probably Garth wouldn't make him embarrassing baked goods. 'Just leave me alone, Garth.'

'Sure thing,' Garth said easily. 'But I'm here when you need me. Garth's always here for you.'

Dean waited until he heard footsteps falling away, and took out his phone. 

Strictly speaking, Benny didn't have a phone. This was his emergency line, just in case, and strictly speaking, Benny was the one supposed to be doing the calling, not the other way around. But Benny … Benny kind of understood the whole Dean and Cas thing. And he'd never judged or pushed or made jokes about it, either. He just let it be what it was. And maybe Dean didn't want to talk to Garth, or any of his other housemates, but he needed to talk to someone or his head was gonna explode.

He pushed 'call'.

'Hey there, brother,' said Benny on the other end of the phone. 'Somethin' wrong?'

'Just my life,' Dean said, half-laughing because yeah, pretty much everything was wrong. 'You ever … you ever _miss_ Purgatory, man?' he asked.

'Now why would you be askin' a stupid question like that?' Benny asked.

'Cos right now I'd really like it if the only thing I had to worry about was watching my back and chopping off heads,' Dean said, sighing. 'This whole civilian life thing is too complicated for me.'

'Your little family still givin' you trouble about Cas?' Benny said knowingly. 'Brother, you gotta rise above it.'

Dean scrubbed his free hand across his eyes, tired. 'Yeah, I know, but now Cas is in on the act.'

'Aaaah,' Benny said, drawing it out. 'And you're feelin' surrounded and outnumbered. Just like Purgatory, eh?'

'I just want everything to go back to how it was.'

'Things change, Dean. Nothin' you can do about it but roll with it. You wanna just be friends with Cas? Then you be his friend.' Benny paused, then asked, 'You fightin' with him?'

'No, I - I dunno. Yeah. Probably,' Dean sighed. 'Kinda fighting with everyone right now.'

'You ever heard the sayin', don't let the sun go down on your anger? You might wanna think about it.'

'Thanks, Yoda,' Dean drawled. But he did kind of feel better. 

'Always welcome, brother. You take care now.'

Benny hung up. Dean stared at his wall for a moment, and made a decision. Benny was right. He needed to stop this shit right here, right now. He was gonna unleash the most powerful weapon in the Charlie Bradbury Manual of House-sharing. The House Meeting.

***

‘Alright,’ Dean said, leaning forward in his chair. Everyone else fell silent pretty quickly. Charlie had looked at him like he’d grown an extra head when he’d actually called a house meeting. She’d been the only one to ever do this so far. Garth had just shrugged and followed them all into the kitchen. ‘I figured, well, I need to set the record straight before things get any more out of hand than they already have done.’ 

‘Is that straight in terms of the truth or sexual orientation?’ Charlie asked with a grin. He flipped her off and carried on. 

‘Some people here can’t keep things they're told to them to themselves, so I guess there’s not really any point in hiding it. Better you know the truth than make up lies.’ 

‘Hey,’ Garth interrupted, shifting in his chair. ‘Don’t feel you have to tell us just because Charlie wants to know. Not if you’re not comfortable.’ 

‘Hey, I’m not trying to make him uncomfortable,’ Charlie protested. ‘I just want him to feel free to be who he is.’ 

‘And I’m not gay,’ Dean interrupted. ‘That’s not what we’re here to talk about.’ 

‘There’s nothing wrong with exploring your sexuality, Dean,’ Charlie protested. She reached across the table to grab his hand but he pulled back quickly. ‘Oh, come on. Sam, you agree with me, right?’ 

‘Leave me out of this,’ Sam said. ‘I’m sorry I ever said anything.’ 

‘Do you want the truth or not?’ Dean asked. Charlie frowned but she didn’t say anything. Garth just gave a lazy shrug and reached down to fuss Killer, who was lounging at his feet. ‘Alright, turns out Cas might have some feelings, and he kind of told me about them. That’s all. I’m not gay, I told him that, he left.’ 

‘Oh my god, Dean,’ Charlie interrupted, sitting up in her chair. ‘You didn’t? Why didn’t you tell him you like him too?’ 

‘Because I don’t! Whatever you think, I’m not -’ 

‘I don’t honestly care if you’re gay,’ she said with a roll of her eyes. ‘Anyone can see you’re in love with Cas, what does the rest of it matter?’ 

‘I’m not in love with him, he’s my best friend,’ Dean protested. ‘He’s kind of pissed right now is all, he’ll calm down.’ 

‘I can’t believe you,’ Charlie sighed. ‘But, it’s going to be fine, this is totally fixable.’ 

‘Charlie, maybe we should just stay out of it,’ Sam said, frowning, and Dean had never agreed with his brother more. Hell, he wished _he_ could stay out of it, but apparently this was his life. 

‘It’ll be fine,’ Charlie said with a dismissive wave, standing up. 

‘No, seriously,’ Dean said, making a grab for her elbow. ‘Stay the hell away from Cas and don’t try to fix anything.’ 

‘I’ll leave Cas out of it,’ she promised, pulling her arm away. ‘I need to go think, talk to you all later.’ 

She slammed up the stairs and Dean watched her go before glancing around the table. Sam wouldn't meet his eyes and Garth was still absorbed in playing with Killer under the table. 

‘Well, shit.’ he said, finally. They he stood and left the room. He wasn’t sure he could stop Charlie when she had a mission - it was probably best to just brace for the storm. 

***

queenofmoons: Okay, change of plans this weekend. I need backup, babe.  
rockstaralias: Oh God, what happened?  
queenofmoons: Defcon One: we're at a rainbow pie alert.  
rockstaralias: ... I'm half-packed, I can be there tonight if you need me.  
queenofmoons: God I love you. We're going to need supplies if this all goes according to plan.  
rockstaralias: Already taken care of. I made an emergency Rainbow Pie Alert preparedness kit. We can put it in his room as soon as he's out of the way. And then everyone will be ready for all eventualities.  
queenofmoons: Are we bad people?  
rockstaralias: Bad people would be unprepared. Also bad people would not bother to check that the lube was okay for use with condoms. Or include the instruction leaflets.  
queenofmoons: <3

***

Sam was on the couch, scanning the day's newspapers online and trying to stop Killer's increasingly long legs from kicking his laptop off onto the floor, when he heard the crunch of a car coming over the muddy gravel of the scrapyard to the house. It had been a quiet day so far after the drama of yesterday. Charlie was locked away in her room, Garth was in the study with a book, and Dean had gone outside to beat the hell out of some old cars, but none of the ones he had in at the moment would start, so the approaching vehicle couldn’t be him. Sam craned his head to try and see out the living room windows, but they were too covered in sigils and dust. He made a mental note to clean them sometime. 

The next thing he knew, Killer was up and off the couch, his laptop nearly did hit the floor (thank you, hunter reflexes), and Kevin was hauling a heavy-looking backpack into the house and trying to avoid getting slobber all down his shirt. 

'Hey, you wanna hand with that?' Sam asked. 

'The dog or the bag?' Kevin asked, looking up at him with a worried smile. 'Hey, by the way.'

'I didn't realise you were coming home this weekend,' Sam said awkwardly, wrestling Killer into happy, panting, doggy submission and patting him on the head.

'I wasn't going to, but I wanted to … I dunno, say sorry?'

Sam squinted at him.

'Also watch the fall-out,' Kevin added, looking a little shamefaced. 'What? Prophetvision only keeps me up to date on world-changing things. For my own life I have to rely on you guys and we appear to be in the middle of a shitstorm of noncommunication here.'

'Well, turns out we're shit _at_ communication,' Sam pointed out. 'Either we don't do it or we do it too much. We had to have a _house meeting_ last night.'

'Whoa, okay. Serious stuff, huh?'

'Dean decided to just tell everyone what happened with him and Cas so we'd stop talking about it behind his back, I guess.'

'And?'

'And, boiled down, Cas has feelings, Dean doesn't, and I'm pretty sure anyone who uses the words 'sexual orientation' or 'gay' around Dean ever again is gonna get punched.'

'Sounds fair,' Kevin said. 'No, actually, sounds unreasonable and typical Dean. But whatever, I'm here and I'm not going to say anything else behind his back ever again. Lesson totally learned.'

'Good,' said Sam. 

They sort of stared at each other for a moment, awkwardly. Killer whined and stretched across the floor between them, belly-up, looking for attention. 'Look, I really am sorry, in case that didn't come across,' Kevin said, shrugging. 'And I kind of get that it's Dean, and what you're like about Dean, but … am I still in the doghouse here?'

'You weren't in the doghouse,' Sam said, sighing. 'I'm sorry, I'm just all over the place with this crap, you know? He's my brother, I just want him to be happy. But he's really freaking bad at _letting_ himself be happy.'

'That sounds familiar,' Kevin said. 'Come on, can we at least move this conversation out of the hallway?' He winked. 'Maybe somewhere with a bed?'

Sam had to resist the urge to look around to check no-one was watching them. And he managed it, but Kevin still noticed. He snorted. 'Dude, we are out and official and no-one even had to have a house meeting over it. Chill.'

'I'm chilled, I'm chilled,' said Sam, laughing. 'Okay. Come on upstairs then.' He led the way to his room, dodging Kevin's slightly grabby hands because while they might be out and official he was well aware of what the unofficial but very clear house policy on PDA was and that they'd be in gross violation of it if he let Kevin grope him in the stairwell. Or on the landing. 

'Oh, am I in here now?' Kevin asked brightly, stopping at the doorway of Sam's room.

Sam froze. 'Uh -'

'Hey,' Kevin said quickly, ducking under Sam's arm and into the room and turning to face him. 'Don't freak out. I can go put my bag in my room and that's cool. Or I can just ditch it in here and stay in here with you for the weekend and that's cool too. Your call, Sam.'

Sam, who couldn't deny that he was on occasional both territorial and possessive, had to admit he liked the look of Kevin standing in his room like he belonged there. But he couldn't just say that, because that would be weird, so he shrugged as casually as he could and said, 'Leave it in here if you want to.'

Kevin smiled and put his bag down on the side of the bed furthest from the shared wall with Dean's room, and then walked over and gave Sam a hug.

It wasn't until some time later that Sam realised Kevin hadn't even suggested Sam move into his room.

***

Beating the hell out of some old cars was giving Dean a sense of peace he’d had trouble finding lately, and he knew that said something about him he’d rather not dwell on, but it was also the truth. It was hard work, absorbing. There was no room in his head for thinking, only for doing, and alright, maybe some of this didn’t need to be done right now, but he overlooked the fiddly little jobs for stripping parts out of some write-offs, and it was satisfying. 

He saw Kevin turn up but tried his best not to think too much about that. It only lead back down into the same spiral, the spiral where Sam had been straight but maybe he wasn’t … and maybe Dean didn’t have to be either. 

Not that he didn’t want to be straight. Or that being gay was bad. He just. Putting a label on the whole thing made him itchy. He just missed Cas, was all. Missed him one hell of a lot, more than he’d thought he would. He’d thought that over the years he’d gotten used to missing Cas, but having Cas gone and mad at him, that didn’t happen so often.

He didn't like it. It made him angry, or sad, or something in between. He couldn't get the guy out of his head. It was like the time Sam went away to Stanford, except then he'd known where Sam was and he'd been pretty sure, like the cocky little shit he'd been back then, that Sam would always come back. But Cas … Cas might decide to stay gone. Might decide Dean was too much trouble or something, and cut his losses. 

Maybe Dean could understand, now that he knew what had gone on behind the scenes, why Sam had been ignoring Kevin's calls. 

Once Kevin was out of sight it was easier for Dean to focus in again, to concentrate on the stretch of his own muscles, instead of thinking about Kevin and Sam and what they might or might not be doing. He didn’t realise how late it had gotten until Charlie came out of the house, a sandwich in one hand and a beer in the other. 

‘Now, this I could get used to,’ he said, accepting the bottle with a grin. Charlie just rolled her eyes and put the plate with the sandwich down on the car. 

‘I wouldn’t. I just didn’t want you getting so caught up in taking your man-pain out on this poor car that you forgot to feed yourself and then passed out or something. You’ll be no use to me as a handmaid if you don’t keep your strength up.’ 

‘I’m no use to anyone at the moment,’ he admitted, grabbing the sandwich and taking a bite. 

‘We kind of noticed you’d been trying out for the 'world’s biggest dick' award,’ she admitted, leaning back against the car. ‘Ever think that if being without Cas makes you like this, you should get over yourself and take him up on whatever it was he was offering?’ 

‘Just drop it,’ Dean said, but there wasn’t even any heat in it any more. Not that he was willing to admit it out loud yet … but Charlie was right, he was starting to think that. Starting to think about it more and more, cataloguing all the ways that being with Castiel might actually be a good thing. Might actually make him happy. 

‘I can totally help,’ Charlie protested. ‘I’ll have you know that I’ve prepared a list of angel pickup lines for just such an occasion.’ 

‘Is ‘did it hurt when you fell from heaven’ on the list because, if it is, I don’t think we should talk to each other any more.’ 

‘Oh please,’ Charlie laughed. ‘We can so do better than that. How do you feel about ‘Let me tie your shoelaces because I don’t want you falling for anyone else’?’

‘Still a variation on the same theme, isn’t it?’ Dean snorted. ‘Not got anything more original?’ 

‘Are you lost, ‘cause heaven’s a long way from here?’ 

‘You do know if I tried that on him he’d take it literally, right?’ 

‘Oh, I know,’ Charlie said with a laugh. ‘Maybe you should go with something more romantic? Oh, I remember one. How’s ‘If I had a star for every time you brightened my day I’d have a galaxy in my hand.’’ 

‘Can you really imagine me saying that?’ Dean asked with a laugh. It was ridiculous but he almost felt better than he had in days. He could just imagine how Cas would react to the lines, taking them all too literally or getting confused by them, it would be hilarious and, maybe, just a little bit endearing. 

‘All I’m saying,’ Charlie said, stepping a little closer and laying a hand on his shoulder. ‘Is maybe you need to think about what you say to him. Like, think up something really awesome and flattering if you want to get him talking to you again. Maybe most lines aren’t for him but there has to be one out there that is. Oh, what about ‘you’re so beautiful you made me forget all my pickup lines’?’ 

‘That’s cheesy as hell,’ Dean said with a laugh. ‘Come on, get off my car. I’ve got work to do.’ 

‘Fine,’ Charlie agreed, standing and stretching. ‘Can’t blame a girl for trying. Becky’s going to be here soon, anyway. Then I won’t need to bother you for my entertainment.’ 

‘She’s coming here?’ Dean asked with a frown. ‘I thought you two were going away?’

‘Change of plans,’ Charlie said with a shrug. ‘Anyway, call me if you see her before I do.’ 

‘I will,’ Dean agreed. He waved to Charlie as she headed into the house, took another bite of his sandwich and set about demolishing more of the car. 

***

Dean finally gave up on car deconstruction when the sky turned red over the scrapyard fences. He went inside, hoping everyone had finally decided to let everything lie. And it looked like they had, for a while at least. 

There was leftover spaghetti on the stove that smelt like Sam had made it (he tended to go nuts on fresh basil when they had it - Bobby used to say that Sam's food could have doubled as spellwork, he put so many herbs in it) and Dean grabbed a bowl of it and poked his head into the living room. 

Sam and Kevin had their heads bent over Sam's laptop, and Charlie and Becky were doing the same thing over Charlie's, although Kevin and Sam looked like they were actually having some kind of sensible discussion, whereas Charlie and Becky were giggling.

Garth waved an X-box controller at Dean as he came into the room properly. 'Dude, you wanna play Need For Speed with me?'

As a general rule Dean didn't play car games, because he couldn't quite get the hang of not heeling over for the corners even though he knew it was a goddamn simulator, and also he felt vaguely dirty for picking out cars that weren't his baby even if they weren't real, but right then he kind of wanted to be included in the happy family picture going on here even if it meant pretending he wanted to drive a computer-generated Mazda MX5 with blue neons, so he sat down.

Garth, because he had some kind of unnatural occult power that he refused to 'fess up to, completely obliterated Dean. 

'Yeah, well,' Dean said, resisting the urge to poke his tongue out. 'If you ever get that piece-of-shit Cadillac going again let me know. Me and my baby'll fucking smoke you at a standing quarter-mile.'

'You've been Garthed, just accept it with good grace,' said Charlie without looking up. 'Otherwise he'll get out Gears of War again and blow you up.'

Dean had to accept she had a point.

Eventually, just after midnight, they all finally decided to break up the domesticity party and head to bed. Dean kept catching Sam and Kevin giving each other significant looks and he mentally resigned himself to a night of having to sing a lot of Metallica to block out the noises, but then when everyone was trooping up the stairs, with Dean at the back of the pack, Kevin hung back.

Little alarm-bells started ringing in Dean's head. 

He gamely made for his own room but just as the last of the other doors snicked closed, Kevin said, 'Dean, can we talk?'

'Do we have to?' Dean asked, trying not to get defensive. He remembered Benny's advice. Just let it happen, he guessed was pretty applicable here. It was naive to expect that any one of his goddamn housemates would let him go without a heart-to-heart. It was like living in an episode of Dr. Phil. 

Don't get mad, man, he told himself. You just spent all afternoon whaling on bodywork so you could let your shit-fit pass. Don't waste it.

'I just wanted to say I'm sorry about talking behind your back,' Kevin said, which, okay, Dean could respect that. 'And that … well, if you want my advice? Don't wait for him to make another move, 'cause he probably won't. If you want something, you go for it, okay?'

It was fucking weird, getting hookup advice from Kevin Tran. Dean still kind of mentally thought of Kevin as a high-schooler, which was downright creepy considering a few recent developments. He squinted at him. Yeah, no, that was not a high-schooler standing in front of him, looking uncomfortable. Kevin really had grown up, Dean realised. 

'I don't -'

'And if you aren't gonna make a move, be sure about that too,' Kevin added, fidgeting. 'Just. Figure out what you want either way and then go for it. Um. And it's not about labels. That's important. When, uh - I mean, it's not being honest that'll hurt you. Both of you.'

'Well, that's great -' said Dean, hoping to shut the conversation down. 

But Kevin sort of had the bit between his teeth. 'You'll figure it out,' he said. 'And the, uh, if it's the … intimacy stuff that's bothering you - there's a lot more to relationships than, y'know, physical stuff, but also there's some pretty great, uh, resources on the Internet, and you'll probably be able to work out the basics but just remember that healthy experimentation is -'

'Okay, thanks Kevin,' said Dean brightly and finally and possibly scarred for life because right up there on 'mental images he didn't need' is the one of his brother's boyfriend, internet resources and healthy experimentation. 'Bye now. Sleep well.'

Dean had never been so glad to see the inside of his own bedroom. With the door shut.

***

An hour later Dean finally gave in and went back downstairs. Becky was sat on the couch, laptop on her lap, but he ignored her temporarily in favour of finding where Sam kept his DIY tools, digging out the list of things that needed to be done, and moving soundproofing to the top of the list. 

He wandered back through into the kitchen, glad to find a half-full pot of coffee already brewed. He’d have Becky in the house more often if she took care of insomniac drinks. She was still sat on the couch, curled up in a pile of blankets and, after a moment’s hesitation, he went out to join her. 

‘Can’t sleep either?’ he asked, grabbing the remote and hitting the power button. Becky sighed and pushed her laptop away a little. 

‘Yeah, it happens. I kind of struggle sleeping in unfamiliar places, and I’ve not really been here that often ...’ 

‘It’s alright,’ Dean said with a shrug. ‘Sam’s being kind of … I don’t really want to think about it. Actually, you shouldn’t think about that either.’ 

‘Not thinking anything,’ Becky said, holding her hands up defensively. ‘I am in a committed relationship and no longer even a little interested in your brother.’ 

‘Well, that’s good to know,’ Dean said, though he wasn’t sure he bought it. He turned back to the TV and started flicking through the stations. It was late, or early he guessed, so there wasn’t a lot of choice. Well, there was one choice. A Doctor Sexy marathon … but he sure as hell wasn’t going to put that on with Becky sat next to him. Bad enough everyone else knew. 

‘Oh god, wait,’ Becky cried out, reaching over to grab his arm. ‘There, all night Doctor Sexy. I _love_ Doctor Sexy! You _have_ to put that on.’ 

‘Sure,’ Dean replied, never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and put it on before she could change her mind. Doctor French was walking across the screen, so it must be one of the Season Ten episodes. That had been the year Sam had had problems with his wall and, well, Dean had kind of missed most of these, so he settled back with a grin. If he had to be up all night there were worse things to do. 

‘Oh, I love this series,’ Becky gushed, leaning over to snatch the remote from Dean and turn the volume up. ‘I only started watching in Season Nine when that enigmatic yet sexy male nurse joined the cast.’ 

‘Nurse Graves,’ Dean said before he could engage his brain-to-mouth filter. If Becky found it odd that he knew character names she didn’t show it. 

‘Yes, that’s the one! I loved the actor in this other show so I came for him, but I stayed for the deep and abiding love between Doctor Sexy and Hospital Director Maguire.’ 

‘Oh no,’ Dean protested. ‘Doctor Sexy is straight. Completely straight. He’s going to end up with Doctor Carter, his thoughtful but sexy past lover.’ 

‘No way!’ Becky exclaimed. ‘Didn’t you catch the arc where he questioned his sexuality after meeting the beautiful Doctor West? And then he decided there was enough of him to go around and he was an equal opportunities lover?’ 

‘You’re making shit up,’ Dean protested. 

‘Nope, the fandom went absolutely insane. Here, let me load up Tumblr and I’m sure I can find a gif of the kiss scene -’ 

‘Don’t spoil it,’ Dean protested, reaching over to slam her laptop shut. ‘If it’s coming up I’ll see it soon, won’t I?’ 

‘Yeah, I guess. But if we’re doing this thing we need to do it properly.’ 

‘What does that even mean?’ Dean asked, shifting away as Becky stood and dumped her computer on the coffee table. 

‘We’re having an all-night fangirl marathon. And don’t try to deny you’re a fan now, it’s way too late. We need to build a fort!’ 

‘I am not building a fort.’ 

‘Well, I will. And we’re totally going to curl up in our fort and watch Doctor Sexy until I convince you of his easy and free policy when it comes to love. You go bring some snacks.’ 

‘This is really over the top,’ Dean complained, but when she kicked at his leg he got up and headed for the kitchen, and when he came back with snacks she’d converted the couch to a pillow fort and filled it with more blankets than he thought they owned. 

‘Alright,’ she said, patting the space beside her. ‘We’re just at the end of episode six, so let me explain what’s happened so far and then we’ll go from here.’ 

‘This is insane,’ Dean said, but he climbed into the pillow fort beside her and settled in. 

It was pretty nice in there, actually. Dean turned his attention to the TV and tried to forget anything else had ever existed.

***

Charlie woke up in the morning (well, pretty much morning) to the noise of an argument downstairs. She sighed and rolled over. No Becky, but she knew Becky was a bit of an insomniac and tended to get up in the middle of the night rather than toss and turn. She'd probably be downstairs writing or something. Which meant she probably needed rescuing from another bout of Winchester Drama™ or whatever all the yelling was about. Charlie sighed and groped around for some clothes.

She rubbed her eyes and tried to finger-comb her hair back into something approaching presentable as she came down the stairs, and concentrating on that and on not falling over meant that she didn't quite realise what the shouting was about until she made it to the kitchen, and then she noticed how much stifled giggling was involved. She poked her head into the living room, and stared.

'Shut up, Sam, just shut up, okay?' Dean was saying irritably from a pile of blankets. It looked like the couch had tried to eat him but found him too tough to chew - and Becky was in there with him, with a look on her face like she'd found some kind of unimagined treasure. Killer was flopped over her knees, and she had her laptop balanced on top of him. Everyone looked pretty comfy. Charlie was a bit tempted to go join them.

The giggling was mostly Becky, but some of it seemed to be Sam, although he was trying to turn it into coughing. 

Charlie pushed further into the living room. Becky waved. Dean glared. Sam kind of looked at her, swept his gaze around the room, and shrugged. 

'Is that a blanket fort?' Charlie asked, because it's not like there were any more sensible questions to ask.

'Dean couldn't sleep, and neither could I, so we stayed up to watch TV,' Becky said. And okay, that was a perfectly reasonable explanation, and the fact that Becky was involved meant that the blanket fort was pretty reasonable as well, or at least shouldn't be a surprise. So Charlie couldn't quite see what Sam was giving Dean shit about … until Sam moved a little bit to one side and Charlie saw what was on the muted TV.

'Is that … Doctor Sexy?'

'Yes, and we're missing the best bits of the Doctor Rodriguez arc from Season Eleven because of Sam,' said Becky indignantly. 

'I can't believe you still watch this crap,' Sam said to Dean. 

Dean rolled his eyes. 'You're just sore still because you got bitchslapped by Doctor Piccolo.'

'Who got bitchslapped?' Kevin asked, coming into the room groggily with a mug of coffee. 'Cool, is that a blanket fort?' He stepped right past Sam and Charlie and plopped down between Dean and Becky. 'What?' he asked, off Sam's disbelieving look. 'You guys were all like 'oh, you should do more normal college stuff' - I'm sorry, but crappy daytime TV in your PJs in a blanket fort is way more normal college stuff than all the things you tried to get me to do.'

Sam blinked, and snorted. 'Okay, okay, I give in,' he said. 'You guys watch your hospital drama, I'm gonna get some actual work done.' He crossed through between the couch and the TV to get to his toolbox, which he'd left stashed next to his favourite armchair. There was a chorus of groans from the couch as he blocked their sightlines. 

Charlie wiggled into the blanket pile next to Becky and let Killer adjust himself so that he took up her lap as well. She was starting to wonder when (or if) he'd stop growing. 

'What the hell?' Sam asked suddenly, peering at a piece of paper he'd taken out of the toolbox.

'What?' the rest of them chorused.

'Dean, did you cross out everything else on my to-do list and put 'SOUNDPROOFING, BITCH' instead?'

'Why do you think I couldn't sleep in the first place, Sammy?'

Sam went maroon. Kevin tried to burrow back into the couch. Garth sauntered into the room in a pair of pyjama bottoms that had seen better days and with a pair of ear-defenders around his neck, and added, 'Underfloor too, please. Ooh, Doctor Sexy!'

Becky unmuted the TV before Sam could splutter any more. 

***

‘Someone get the door,’ Becky yelled. Sam dropped his tools with a sigh. The house in general had yet to emerge from the pillow fort Becky had constructed, and it looked like they weren’t about to any time soon. He’d heard the bell ring twice now, but he’d presumed someone closer to the door would get it. Apparently not. He gave them all a dirty glare as he traipsed through the living room, but none of them even looked over from whatever deeply important thing was happening on the television. 

He got to the door just as whoever was outside rang the bell again and pulled it open to find Mrs Tran and Benny on the doorstep. 

For a second he just stared at them, because he was pretty damn sure nobody had invited them. Then they were barging past into the house and he just stepped back and let it happen, because he'd learnt his lesson a long time ago about getting in the way of forces of nature. 

‘Surprise,’ Mrs Tran called out, dropping the bag she was carrying on the floor. ‘We came to check you’re not dead yet!’ 

‘Mom?’ Kevin asked, head appearing above the top of the pillow fort. ‘What are you even doing here?’ 

‘I could ask you the same thing,’ she said, raising an eyebrow. ‘Shouldn’t you be in school?’ 

‘It’s the weekend,’ he defended, pushing the blankets out of the way and climbing out of the fort. 

‘Still, don’t you have things to study for? I hope you’re not driving up here every weekend. That kind of thing can really impact on your academic performance.’ 

‘He’s not here every weekend,’ Sam said in what he hoped was a reassuring voice, but Mrs Tran gave him a look that shut him up pretty quickly. He was definitely in for a talking to, then. 

‘Benny!’ Dean interrupted, and Sam turned to find his brother had emerged over the fort too. ‘What are you doing here?’ 

‘You sounded down, bro,’ Benny said, walking over to shake Dean’s hand. ‘I was talking to Linda and she mentioned wanting to head over and see you all, so we thought we’d make you some lunch and have ourselves a reunion.’ 

‘Erm, her first name is Mrs.’ Charlie said, peeking out from the fort too. ‘Since when are you two on a first name basis, anyway?’ 

‘We’re good friends,’ Mrs Tran said with a grin. ‘Have you got anyone else in there or is that it?’ 

‘I’m in here,’ Garth protested. ‘I’m just kind of under Killer at the moment. It happens.’ 

‘Becky’s here too,’ Charlie said, reaching down and pulling so Becky was standing up too. ‘My girlfriend. Becky, this is Kevin’s mom and Benny, who was in Purgatory with Dean and Cas.’ 

‘Nice to meet you,’ Becky said with a smile. 

‘Alright,’ Mrs Tran said, nodding. ‘Garth, you get out from under that dog. Everyone go and get dressed. Sam, you can help us get started in the kitchen.’ 

‘Maybe I should ...’ Kevin started, but his mom just glared at him and he backed down, leading the way up the stairs. When Garth dislodged him Killer came around the couch and stopped for a fuss from Mrs Tran. She petted him until the room was clear, then stood up, fixing Sam with a glare.

‘Benny, will you fetch the other bags please? Sam, you can come through to the kitchen.’ 

‘I’ll get the bags,’ Sam protested, edging back towards the door. 

‘Oh no,’ Benny said, cutting off his retreat. ‘You go into the kitchen like you’re told, I’ll go get the bags.’ No option left, Sam picked up some of the things they’d already brought in and headed off to the kitchen, Mrs Tran right after him. 

‘Sit,’ she said once the door shut, taking a seat herself at the kitchen table. He moved quickly to comply, sliding into the seat across from her. ‘Sam, do I really need to tell you what I’m going to do to you if you actually hurt Kevin?’ she asked.

‘No Ma'am,’ he said. He’d seen plenty of what she was capable of, she didn’t need to elaborate. 

‘Good,’ she said, smiling. ‘He could have done a lot worse. I mean, you’re not what I wanted in a daughter-in-law, but at least you understand Kevin, so that’s a weight off my mind. Just take care of him.’ 

‘I will,’ Sam promised. He could hardly believe he was getting off this lightly. 

Mrs Tran smiled. ‘Good, because you know he phoned me a few nights ago?’ 

‘He did?’ Sam asked, gut tightening. 

‘Yeah, he did. He was really broken up, said you’d had a fight. That’s all dealt with now, right?’ 

‘Yes,’ Sam rushed to assure her. ‘We talked, it’s all fine. We’re fine. Everything’s good.’ 

‘Good,’ she said, nodding. ‘I don’t like hearing Kevin upset, not after everything he’s been through. I don’t want to be making my next trip up here to have a different kind of talk, you understand.’ 

‘Of course,’ Sam said. Luckily Benny chose that moment to come back in laden down with bags. ‘I’ll just get out of your way.’ He made a break for it while they were distracted. 

***

Lunch was, as usual when Benny was involved, delicious. Dean had this recurring daydream where Benny decided to open up a restaurant in Sioux Falls and always had surplus pie, and it always ambushed him at times like this. He was getting distracted from his meal, however, by the tight, stressed look on Sam's face and the way Kevin kept glancing between his mom and Sam like he was really worried. Dean was pretty confident in Sam's ability to resist torture and interrogation against pretty much everyone and anything, but Mrs Tran was superhuman in some respects. Maybe Kevin was right to be concerned. 

'So, Becky, what do you do for a living?' Mrs Tran asked after the silence had gone on long enough to be awkward. 

Becky jumped a little, startled. 'Uh. I'm a freelance editor, and I make webpages?' she said. 'I kind of contract out to people who need words written in general.'

'So you're an entrepreneur,' Mrs Tran said approvingly. 'That must give you and Charlie a lot in common to talk about. How did you meet?'

'Online,' said Charlie hurriedly. 'Just. You know, online dating. Very boring, really.'

Dean hid his smirk behind a forkful of potato salad. Rookie mistake, as it turned out.

'And how about you, Dean, are you seeing anyone right now?' Mrs Tran asked pointedly, and raised an eyebrow. She knew. Oh god, she knew. Dean was going to kill _every single member_ of his household and claim he'd been provoked. No jury would ever convict him. 

Benny tilted his head at Dean and smiled a little smile and Dean reluctantly backed down from his mass homicide plan to a reduced plan of only one horrible murder. Goddammit, Benny. Bros don't tell their bro's not-brother-in-law's mothers about their manly relationship issues. 

'No,' he said shortly, trying to derail the conversation before it had a chance to pick up any momentum.

'Definitely not,' said Garth, reaching under Sam's chair to pet Killer. 'We had to have a house meeting about how he's not seeing anyone right now.'

'Yes, it's very official,' Charlie added, picking at her salad without looking up. Dean was pretty sure she was trying not to crack up.

He fumed. Multiple homicide was back on the table. Could none of them just fucking well let it go?

'In other news, I picked up some work on a construction site down in town for the next couple of weeks,' said Sam brightly. 'Mostly just fetching and carrying, I'm pretty sure, but hey, it might lead to more work later? Which is always a good thing.' 

He shot a little, crooked smile at Dean. Dean loved his baby brother so fucking much sometimes. 

The conversation turned back to jobs, and then to Mrs Tran interrogating Kevin about his career path, and Charlie's new top secret project for something she hinted heavily was a military organisation but was apparently contractually obligated not to name but which was housed in a building shaped like a five-sided regular polygon, and by the time they were all finished and picking up the dishes Dean had backed down from the homicide plan again. 

He started filling the sink full of water, and couldn't help think back to Apocalypsemas and the last time he'd done this, and how last time he'd had company. Okay, so maybe there was … something he was missing about this whole domestic situation.

Or someone. 

He told the little voice in the back of his head that sometimes sounded like Sam and sometimes like Charlie to shut the hell up.

‘You had time to think yet?’ Benny asked, leaning against the counter beside him. Dean looked around to find the rest of the kitchen deserted, just the two of them. 

‘Not a lot to think about,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I’ve made up my mind.’ 

‘See, I don’t think you have,’ Benny said with a shrug. ‘I think you’re still turning it over in your head, otherwise we wouldn’t still be having this conversation.’ 

‘You started it,’ Dean pointed out. 

‘But you let me,’ Benny replied with a shrug. ‘You’re engaging, so that means you’re still thinking. And if you’re still thinking that means you don’t like the choice you already made.’ 

‘I like my choices fine,’ Dean grumbled, viciously scrubbing the plate in his hand. ‘I’m fine.’ 

‘You might be fine, but you’re not happy,’ Benny said with an infuriatingly smug grin. ‘Maybe you’ve just got to let go and move with it, Dean. Maybe you’ll like where it takes you.’ 

‘Seriously, Benny, I’m fine,’ Dean said, stepping away from the sink. ‘Everything is fine between me and Cas.’ 

‘So, I can just call him down here now and you won’t mind?’ 

‘Don’t,’ Dean said, his stomach twisting at the thought of Cas just being here, just like that. He wouldn’t know what to say, what to do, and maybe Benny was right that he hadn’t really made up his mind yet. Cas was important, so important. He couldn’t mess this up, he wouldn’t have a second chance.

Maybe he should take the last chance he did have. 

‘I won’t,’ Benny said, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. ‘Just don’t leave it too long, brother. You don’t want to miss out.’ 

‘I won’t,’ Dean promised. ‘Thanks.’ 

***

The house was already so overcrowded that Dean didn't even bat an eyelid when Jody Mills showed up on the doorstep in the late afternoon. 

'Hi, Dean. Uh, I need some advice,' she said. He just stood aside and let her in. 

'Well, it's not like we don't have plenty of that to go around at the moment,' he said, half under his breath.

'Huh?'

'Nothing. What's up?'

He led her through to the living room, where everyone was mostly congregated and full of lunch, trying to digest. The blanket fort had been deconstructed and the place looked like grownups lived there again. Thankfully for Dean's sanity, the Doctor Sexy marathon had ended. 

'Hey, Jody,' said Sam, getting up to shake her hand. 'Long time, no see.'

'Good to see you, Sam,' said Jody. She looked around the room at everyone else. 'Looks like you boys have company. I don't mean to intrude -'

'Oh, no, they live here,' said Dean dismissively. 'Most of them. Most of the time.'

'Why don't I do the introductions?' Sam said. 'Everyone, this is Jody Mills. She used to be Sheriff in Sioux Falls - she was a friend of Bobby's.' 'Friend of Bobby's' was house code for 'is down with the whole hunting thing', as well as usually being literal. 'Jody, these are our housemates Garth, Charlie and Kevin, Charlie's girlfriend Becky, Kevin's mom, Linda Tran, and Dean's friend Benny.'

There was a round of waves and muttered 'how d'you do's from the horde. Sam cleared his throat. 'Also just so we don't have any misunderstandings later on, Kevin's the current Prophet of the Lord and Benny's a vampire.'

'Reformed,' Benny added. 'On the wagon, you might say.' 

'Right,' said Jody, and she nodded. 'Okay, well, I might as well just come out with it - I've been hunting a ghost a couple towns over and I did the whole salt-and-burn thing but the bastard just won't die. I thought maybe you boys could give me a few suggestions, if you were still in the business.' She shrugged. 'If you're not, I'll leave you to your weekend.'

'We are definitely still in the business,' said Garth before either Dean or Sam could get a word in. 'Come sit down, we can talk this over.'

Dean half expected that at least someone would find something more interesting to do than sit around talking about ghost-busting techniques. But instead the whole household gathered around to hear Jody tell her tale. Not that they let her get through it without interruptions.

'I bet it's an inanimate object,' said Becky, already typing furiously on her laptop like she was taking notes. 'Something imbued with the blood and hate of the angry spirit!'

'Well, if it is it's well-hidden,' Jody said, raising an eyebrow. 'I torched his entire house.'

Off Kevin's look, she shrugged. 'What? It was due to be demolished.'

'Any surviving descendants?' Mrs Tran asked thoughtfully. 'Could it be possible that a ghost could control their own relatives?'

Dean shared a look with Sam and Garth, and sat back. This was kind of entertaining, actually. Amateur Hour kind of entertaining. 

In the end the professionals only had to step in a couple of times, and then Jody was sitting back with a sheaf full of notes that Becky had typed, scurried off and printed out for her, and then backed up on a memory stick and dropped in her pocket. 'Okay … that was actually a lot more productive than I thought it was going to be,' she said.

'We're working on getting the whole hunting thing more organised,' said Garth, looking smug like he'd somehow brought together a council of great and wise sages for this express purpose, rather than kind of accidentally living with a bunch of enormous research nerds, and Dean. 'Glad we could help.'

'Would you like to stay for dinner?' Benny asked. 'We're having my famous gumbo.'

'We are?' said Charlie.

'Unless you wanna cook?' Benny raised his eyebrow challengingly.

'She doesn't cook,' Kevin pointed out. 'But she's got the art of ordering pizza down. It's very efficient.'

'Shut up, college boy, I bet you live off shitty coffee and book dust.'

'And ramen,' Becky added. 'It's the one essential food group of the student.'

‘I eat actual food,’ Kevin protested. ‘And like any of you can say anything! I’ve lived in this house, I know you only eat Chinese takeaway and pie!’ 

‘Is this why you’re visiting?’ Jody asked Benny and Mrs Tran. ‘To try and get some actual food into them?’ 

‘Partially,’ Benny agreed with a shrug and a shit-eating grin. ‘Though, this time we also came to check up on Dean. He’s having a little trouble with his love life.’ 

‘Can I mention now that I hate you all?’ Dean asked, dropping his head into his hands. 

‘He’s been melodramatic,’ Mrs Tran said, waving dismissively. ‘Come help us make gumbo, we’ll tell you _all_ about it.’ 

‘You really don’t need to do that,’ Dean said, but they all ignored him. 

***

‘Dean, I’ve got something for you,’ Becky said. He looked up from his beer to find her leaning out of the back door. He could smell the gumbo from the window and he’d been almost tempted to go in and let them distract him, but there had been just about enough discussion of his love life for one day. He was hoping that if he wasn’t physically present to remind them they’d forget about him, so he’d taken his beer and headed out to the porch. 

The problem was, he was out here alone, and he had certain memories of this porch. It was ridiculous, getting nostalgic about nothing, but sitting out here quietly made him wish he had Cas beside him so they could sit here quietly together and watch the clouds. 

He just missed his best friend. It was true. Maybe not the whole truth, but true enough for now. 

Either way, Becky effectively dispersed the vague melancholy that had been settling over him, slipping out of the door with a USB stick in her hand, which she immediately dropped into his shirt pocket.

‘Look,’ she said, sitting down. ‘I know you probably don’t care, but I can’t resist a chance to convert someone. I put some fanfiction on it. Some of Doctor Sexy with that repressed yet sexy intern, and some of him with Doctor West, and I found those kiss gifs for you too. Oh, and a few with the hospital director - I know you don’t like the pairing, but they’re such amazing fics, I just couldn’t resist.’ 

‘Becky,’ Dean interrupted, fishing the USB stick out of his shirt. ‘Not that I’m not grateful that you tried to do something for me, but you do know I’m really not interested, right?’ 

‘Yeah,’ she admitted with a shrug. ‘However, it’s my duty as a fangirl to at least provide you with some fic recs and, well, I thought that when you do decide to get together with Cas, at least this way someone's given you an idea about how two guys have sex, because I doubt you’ll go research it yourself.’ 

Dean stared at her. ‘And what a load of virgins think gay sex is like is really going to help me?’ 

‘Don’t criticise until you’ve read them,’ Becky said with a shrug. ‘I mean, every detail won’t be accurate, but the general consensus of how it works has to come from somewhere, right?’ 

‘You know what,’ Dean said, waving dismissively. ‘We’re not even having this conversation.’ 

‘Alright,’ Becky agreed. ‘But I’m not taking the USB stick back. Just keep it, please. Even if you don’t read it. Just in case.’ 

‘You’re crazy,’ Dean said, but he did slip the USB drive back into his pocket, so maybe he was the crazy one. He’d be even crazier if he admitted that a part of him was thinking of reading some of this. Maybe Becky had a point. It wasn’t that he’d definitely decided to say something to Cas but it wasn’t that he hadn’t either and if he did say something, what the hell happened next? He probably needed some help with that at least.. 

‘Just remember stretching, and that you can never use enough lube, and you’ll do great,’ Becky enthused, leaning forward suddenly and kissing his cheek, then standing and running back to the house. 

Dean kind of couldn’t wait for this weekend to be over so that he could get back to sanity. 

***

‘You should definitely join me on a hunt sometime,’ Jody said, reaching across Dean to grip Mrs. Tran’s arm. Dean sighed, leaning back again. He wasn’t sure how the seating plan had worked out to put him between the two of them for dinner, but he definitely hadn’t had any say in it. Either someone had a plot or Fate was a cruel bitch who wanted him to suffer. 

‘I’d love to,’ Mrs Tran enthused. ‘I’ve been thinking about it for a while, it seems a good way to get out of the house. I do get lonely sometimes. And bored.’ 

‘God, Mom, join a book club,’ Kevin groaned, sinking down in his chair. Sam gave him the same kind of small pained smile he’d been giving him the entire meal while Jody and Mrs. Tran had bonded. Dean wasn’t sure why Kevin got the support when he was the one sat between them. 

‘Oh please,’ Mrs Tran said to Kevin with a dismissive wave. ‘Do you think you’re the only one who gets to have adventures?’ 

‘Maybe I just don’t want you killed?’ Kevin replied. 

‘Oh, stop trying to protect me,’ she said with a dismissive wave. ‘I can look after myself. You concentrate on looking after yourself and Sam.’

‘I’m still not quite sure I believe this,’ Jody said, giving Sam a piercing look and Dean grinned, because it was good to see someone else come under scrutiny for a while. ‘He doesn’t seem like your type.’ 

‘Well, types change,’ Sam said with a shrug. Kevin smiled at him then, and it was kind of sickening. ‘Besides, if we’re talking about relationships, I thought Dean was topic of the weekend?’ 

‘Dammit, Sam,’ Dean snapped, but it was too late. Both Mrs Tran and Jody had turned to look at him.

‘Yes, Dean,’ Jody said with a grin. ‘I heard your tastes changed a bit too.’ 

‘My tastes are exactly the same,’ Dean said dismissively. ‘I can’t help if everyone wants a piece of this.’ 

'Please,’ Mrs. Tran dismissed. ‘You should see them together, you’d think they’d been married for years! Dean’s crazy if he doesn’t go for that. We've all been telling him so.’ 

‘Still not gay,' Dean sing-songed sardonically. He felt like he had to keep saying it, even though it was blatantly obvious no-one was actually listening to him.

‘For heaven's sake, if people only fell in love with the people they expected to love, nothing would ever get done. Did I ever tell you about Kevin’s dad?’ 

‘Please, Mom,’ Kevin groaned, sinking even further into his chair like there was an escape hatch in there somewhere. ‘Not this story. You promised.’ 

‘It’s a good story,’ Mrs Tran said, waving Kevin’s protest away. ‘You see, when I met Kevin's father, I was young and working my way through college, and I did a little dancing on the side to make money ...’

‘You were a stripper?’ Garth asked, looking weirdly pleased. ‘Go Linda!’ And seriously, since when was Garth on first name terms with Mrs Tran too? Was Dean the only person in the house still calling her Mrs Tran?

‘Oh, it was very tasteful,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘We kept our underwear on and the men weren’t meant to touch. Anyway, Kevin’s dad was on my course and I always thought he was boring, you know. But then one day he came to the club, and he was such a gentleman. I’d been dating all these bad boys with their drugs and tattoos, and he was exactly the opposite of my type, but somehow I fell in love with him anyway. Then Kevin happened and we got married. So,' she said, turning to Dean, 'What I’m trying to say is that you should give Cas a try. He’s not what you thought you were looking for, but he’s what you've got. So hold on to him.’

Dean was pretty sure the seats didn't have escape hatches built into them but he couldn't stop himself from shrinking into his just like Kevin, desperately hoping for freedom. 

'Yeah, uh, thanks,' Dean said, when it became utterly clear that everyone was waiting on him to respond. 'So, how about that local sports team, then?' he added, desperately.

There were a lot of eyerolls and sarcastic glances exchanged, but the topic did change, led surprisingly by Becky, who launched into a well-informed monologue on some Canadian ice hockey team. Well-enough informed that it made Dean suspicious of exactly _why_ she was so interested. Whatever. He wasn't going to look this particular gift horse in the mouth.

He also wasn't planning on getting caught with the old 'ambush Dean with disturbing and repetitive advice while he's doing the dishes' trick again, so when the meal started wrapping up he tried to make a break for his bedroom, only to get caught by Jody. 

'Don't suppose I could get you to help me pack some rock salt rounds?' she asked. 'I'm all out, and the job goes quicker with two.'

And it's not like Dean could refuse a request like that, which is how he got ambushed while up to his elbows in rock salt. 

'I get that you're getting a lot of people talking at you and you're sick of it,' Jody said, not looking at Dean, spooning salt into shells methodically and tamping them down. 'I got filled in on the gossip before dinner. Frankly I think the whole thing sounds like hell to be stuck in the middle of. God knows I wouldn't want my whole family getting in on an act like this. So I'm not gonna give you any bullshit, Dean, you know me.'

She looked up for a moment, like she was waiting for a response. Dean nodded curtly. 

'But I do think maybe you could use a bit of straight-up advice. No romance, no feelings, just advice. I know Bobby thought of you boys as his family, but he's not here anymore, and I feel like maybe he wouldn't have minded if I stepped in. I did used to be a mom, y'know.'

'Yes ma'am,' said Dean, mechanically packing rounds, just the way Bobby taught him. They were nearly three-quarters of the way through the box Jody had brought in. He brushed spilt salt into a little pile in front of him and tipped it into the next empty case before adding another spoonful from the carton. Jody kept talking.

'I don't know this person they all say you're so involved with. But I figure this advice stands with anyone.' Jody stopped working and fixed Dean with a serious stare. 'You ask permission before you do a thing, Winchester, you hear me? And you wrap it up before you stick it anywhere.'

Dean blinked. 

'Protection is important for everyone,' she said, cocking her head at him. 'And in this one instance I don't mean a .45.'

'... I think I can manage that,' he said, completely poleaxed. 

'Good,' said Jody. 'Because all the fluffy romance aside? It really can be that simple, Dean. I promise. You just ask. He can either say yes or no, y'know? And if he says yes, you be safe. I know you. You like to take care of people. You've got it pretty good out here now, with your brother and your friends. You've taken care of lots of strangers. So now? You get to take care of yourself.'

She patted him on the shoulder, shuffling the made-up rounds back into their box with her other hand. 'Okay, champ. Good talk. And now I should get back on the road.'

***

If anyone asked, Dean was going to blame the fact that he hadn’t slept in just over forty hours. Everyone else was asleep already, but he couldn’t settle, so he'd stayed out in the living room. It was like he couldn’t stop thinking. Since all anyone had done all day was talk to him about Cas you’d think he’d be sick of it by now, but somehow his brain wouldn’t turn off - so he needed a distraction. And since everyone else was passed out, that left him to entertain himself, and Becky’s USB drive was still right there in his pocket. 

It was very logical. 

It was a bad plan. 

He’d ended up reading some of the "repressed yet sexy intern and Doctor Sexy" stuff, and he felt kind of dirty when doing it - but not as much as he’d expected to. Thing was, not that he’d admitted it, but around five am when he’d been watching this stuff with Becky he’d been rooting for the intern to get over himself and make out with Doctor Sexy too. 

Maybe the problem was he kind of saw a little too much of himself in there. It was ridiculous since, you know, it was some terrible TV show he shouldn’t even like, but wasn’t he kind of doing the same thing? Getting so caught up in what he thought he should be that he wasn’t even trying? 

It was frighteningly easy after the day he’d had to admit that Cas might not just be a friend to him. Even to admit that maybe he _wanted_ more than friendship, or at least might be willing to give it a go. 

Which kind of left him at the point of acting on it. He didn’t want to be the sexy but repressed intern, letting the best thing that could have happened to him slip through his fingers because he was worried about what other people might say. Hell, he got the impression that with this crowd they’d be more disappointed if he didn’t say yes to Cas. Maybe others wouldn’t be so open-minded, maybe his dad would have given him hell for it, but screw them all. 

Right down, right at the core of it, he just wanted things with Cas to be good again. He wanted Cas back. And he’d never been the kind to wait around once a decision was made, and he knew it was a bit crazy but, well, he was good at crazy. 

‘Cas,’ he said, thankful that, for once, everyone had found their way to their beds and none of the guests had ended up in the living room. ‘I kind of need to talk to you, if you’re not too busy.’ 

'I'm never too busy to talk to you,' Cas said quietly. He had joined Dean on the sofa - Dean hurriedly shut the laptop to hide what he'd been reading. 'Are you going to be reasonable?'

'Dammit, Cas, I wasn't ever trying to be _un_ reasonable,' Dean huffed. He put the laptop down.

'I'm sorry if I made advances that were inappropriate,' Cas said, fidgeting with the cuffs of his coat. 'But I've been given to understand that people reexamine their relationships. And you prefer things to be straightforward. I was only attempting be straightforward with you.'

He looked up at Dean from under his eyelashes, and his expression was so unsure that it threw Dean for a moment. He was used to Cas being sure and righteous even when (usually, in situations like this) he was completely on the wrong track. 

To his dying day Dean Winchester would deny that he was taking advice from porn written by teenage girls, but he kept flashing back to Doctor Sexy and the repressed (yet sexy) intern, and how hard he'd been internally begging them to just fucking get over themselves. There was clearly only one way to prevent being the intern in this situation.

'Fuck this,' he muttered, and pulled Cas in for a kiss. 

It lasted about half a second, half a kind of glorious second where Dean felt pretty damn triumphant because Cas was maybe kissing him back and this wasn't disturbing or different, this was awesome - 

\- and then Cas yanked himself away. 

'What are you doing?' he asked, panting a little. 'I thought you didn't -'

'I changed my mind?' Dean said 'You said people could rethink -'

‘What caused you to change your mind?’ Cas asked, frowning. 

‘Does it even matter?’ Dean said, reaching forward to touch Cas again. Cas moved away. 

‘It matters a great deal. I know you, Dean. I know your patterns. This is important to me, I need to know that it’s important to you too.’ 

‘Of course it is,’ Dean said. ‘Look, I just thought it through, is all. And maybe sex with you won’t be so bad. I mean, that was awesome just then, so maybe it’ll be fun.’ 

‘The sex won’t be so bad,’ Cas said, almost to himself, stepping further back. ‘No, I do not believe this is right.’ 

With that he was gone, and Dean had no damn idea what he’d done wrong. 

*** 

Garth's first job most mornings was to feed Killer. Then he tended to check his messages, make sure no-one had been eaten by shit during the night, get in contact with hunters if anyone _had_ been eaten by something and try and get that taken care of, and then he usually did the crossword. In between all of that stuff he pretty much always had to either lever Sam up off the kitchen table, put a blanket over Dean on the couch, or pour Charlie a hot cup of coffee to replace the congealing one she was generally nursing while swearing at a piece of code. 

That, minus Killer, had been the pattern of life in the house since the whole weird arrangement had fallen into place. Since everyone had started having noisy reasons to be in their actual bedrooms at night though, Garth's mornings had been a lot quieter.

'C'mon, boy,' Garth murmured to the half-grown dog, who'd pretty much inhaled his entire bowl of food in thirty seconds flat. 'Let's go find out what's going on in the world.'

The first thing he noticed in the living room was Dean's seldom-used laptop whirring away on the floor by the sofa. Then he noticed that Dean was on the sofa, morosely staring at what looked like yet another episode of Doctor Sexy with the volume turned almost down to nothing. 

'No blanket fort this morning?' Garth asked, taking the other end of the sofa. Dean practically flinched. Killer jumped up between them and flopped his head in Dean's lap, but apparently even the literal puppy-dog look couldn't jerk Dean out of his mood.

'This guy is a fucking asshole,' said Dean, gesturing at the TV, where the eponymous doctor was having a bustup with a guy in scrubs who looked like he was about to burst into tears. 'Nurse Graves just went out on a goddamn limb for him and now he's getting chewed out like a first-year. This is bullshit.'

Garth squinted at him. 'Dude, how long have you been awake?'

'I know he fucked up, but he didn't know. He was just trying to do the right thing.'

'You should probably try to get some sleep, Dean.' Garth was mentally ticking himself off. He prided himself on knowing the strengths and weaknesses of his hunters, and his housemates even more than that. Dean had been at the centre of this stupid relationship shitstorm for weeks now, and okay, it had been pretty funny to start with, and normally Dean gave as good as he got when housemate wars were on, but Garth should have picked up ages ago that this wasn't the usual leg-pulling and prank-escalating type of thing. 

He got up and pulled Dean to his feet. 'Come on, bed,' he said. 'March, Winchester,' and dragged Dean up the stairs and into his room. 'If you come back down before lunchtime, I will kick your ass.'

Dean actually managed to huff a laugh at that one. 

'Fine. I will get Linda to kick your ass.'

'I'm sleeping, I'm sleeping,' said Dean, crawling onto his mattress. He didn't bother to even empty his pockets, let alone take off his jeans, but Garth figured he'd probably slept in worse situations and left him to it. He did take the opportunity to pickpocket him for one specific item, however, because Garth Fitzgerald IV always made sure to think ahead. 

And now, Garth now had a call to make. 

He shut himself in the study with his cellphone, selected his probably least-used contact, took a deep breath, and when the other end picked up, said, 'Castiel, buddy, I think you and I need to have a talk.'

‘Is somebody in danger?’ Cas asked, and Garth wasn’t quite used to the silent appearing/disappearing thing, so he managed to drop his phone. He scooped down to pick it up, cursing, and ended the call before turning back to Cas. 

‘Not right now, no. I need to talk to you about the situation between you and Dean.’ 

‘I don’t want to talk about that,’ Cas said, but he didn’t immediately disappear, so Garth took that as a good sign. He sat down in his office chair and gestured at the chair across from him. 

‘I get that. Talking about things sucks. But it’s also the only way anything gets fixed, and I think you want to fix things with Dean, so pull up a seat.’ 

‘Surely I should be having this conversation with Dean,’ Cas said, cautiously taking the seat, and Garth grinned. He knew he’d be able to get Cas to talk to him. After all, he'd managed to build the whole hunter network back up after Bobby's death, and it's not like hunters were ever big on cooperation. Or communication. Or interacting with other humans regularly at all.

‘You and I both know Dean doesn’t talk about feelings. I, however, do talk about feelings. So, this once, _we’ll_ talk about feelings and then I’ll tell Dean how he’s being an idiot, and you guys can sort it out. Now, talk. You told Dean you like him?’ 

‘I expressed my love for him, and my desire to add a sexual element to our relationship, the way humans generally do when they grow close the way we have,’ Cas confirmed. ‘It's possible I was more direct than I should have been.’ 

‘You’re a direct kind of guy,’ Garth said with a shrug. ‘I appreciate that. Though maybe that topic with Dean, might have been better to build him up to it. That’s not the point though. You like him, last night he seemed alright, this morning he was miserable. What happened?’ 

‘Last night Dean attempted to initiate sex with me,’ Cas said, frowning. 

‘I thought that was what you wanted?’ Garth said with a shrug. Seemed like it would have been a good solution to him. They could sleep together, Sam would finally install the soundproofing, everyone would win. 

‘Partially - but Dean has a long history of engaging in sexual acts when his judgement is impaired and then immediately regretting those acts, or leaving those people behind.’ 

‘So you don’t want to be a notch on Dean’s bedpost. Understandable. I’ve gotta say, though, I don’t think that’s what Dean wants from you. He’d not the kind to risk his best friend for nothing, and he wasn’t that impaired last night.’ 

‘He asked me for sex. He said maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if we had sex.’ Cas looked … actually kind of hurt about that. Which Garth could understand. Way to phrase it wrong, Dean. 

‘That’s probably just the gay freak-out talking,' Garth said as soothingly as he could. 'Let’s change track for a second on this conversation. What do you want from Dean?’ 

‘What do you mean?’ 

‘What do you imagine him doing? In a perfect world, what happens next?’ 

Cas looked down, shrugging. ‘I want Dean to show he understands that I desire him for more than sex. That I love him, I wish to build a relationship with him as humans do, as well as I can.’ 

‘Message received,’ Garth said, standing up. Cas stood too, and Garth didn’t wait for permission before stepping forward round the desk and pulling the other man into a hug. Cas was a bit stiff, but then he didn’t get hugged much. Thing was, if anyone deserved a hug right about now it was probably Cas. Dean had been dealing with all this shit with his crazy house-mates to at least try to help him. Cas had been dealing with it on his own. 

Cas gave him an odd look when he stepped back, and then he was gone, which wasn’t as weird as when he was suddenly there. Garth went back to his work with a satisfied smile. At least he knew what to tell Dean now. But first, he had to deal with some logistics.

***

'Here,' Garth said, shoving a picnic basket and a piece of paper with hastily-written instructions scribbled on it at Sam and Kevin. 'One packed lunch, with blanket to sit on, as a romantic cover-story for running surveillance on your mom and Ms Mills and Benny on their first team hunt. And here are the Impala's keys -' he added, dangling them in front of Sam. 'I decided Dean wasn't going to be needing her. Now get.'

Sam narrowed his eyes at Garth like he was in some way suspicious of his brilliant plan, but Kevin shook his head and dragged Sam out the front door before Garth had to push him. So Garth turned to Charlie and Becky instead. 

'I still think I have a lot to contribute,' Becky said, putting her hands on her hips. 'I'm pretty sure this would be my specialist subject on game shows.'

'This,' said Garth, holding up an envelope and ignoring her in favour of talking to Charlie, 'contains two tickets to the Sioux Falls local cinema in which they are holding an overnight marathon of all eight Harry Potter movies. There's going to be a trivia contest afterwards, with a prize.' He held up another basket in his other hand. 'This contains enough Red Bull and Doritos to fuel six fifteen year olds having a weekend-long LAN party.'

'This is a lot of bribery,' Charlie pointed out, but she did take the envelope and the basket. 'Are you sure about this, Garth?'

'Trust me,' said Garth. 'You guys had your chance and you failed. So as usual, Garth has to come and fix your messes.'

'It's not our mess, it's Dean's mess,' said Charlie. Garth started to herd them towards the door. 

'Wait,' said Becky urgently before he managed to get them all the way out.

'What?' Garth asked.

'If … if everything goes according to plan,' Becky said, waggling her eyebrows, 'Tell Dean to look under the bed.'

'... what?'

'Trust me,' Becky echoed him. 

After Garth shut the door behind them he could hear Charlie say, 'You _didn't_!'

'I told you I was fully prepared for a Rainbow Pie Alert,' Becky said smugly before they faded out of earshot. 

Garth decided he was going to leave … whatever that was … for Dean to discover on his own.

***

Dean came down the stairs to a deserted house. Well, almost deserted. He could hear the scratch of Killer’s paws from the kitchen, which probably meant either Garth or Sam was in there too, but there was nobody passed out on the couch or anything, and that was weird. 

He headed towards the kitchen and found, as predicted, Garth sat at the table, finishing a sandwich. Killer was padding round the table as though trying to draw attention to himself, like he wasn’t already too big to miss. 

‘You kill everyone?’ Dean asked, dropping down into the seat across from Garth. ‘Whole house full finally got too much for you? I can sympathise.’ 

‘Nope,’ Garth said, reaching down to fuss Killer’s ear. ‘I cleared them out for you, and you can rest assured that it’s going to be early next morning when they return, at the earliest. As soon as I’m done with this I’ve got a hunt to head to too, and I’ll take Killer, so I’ve provided you with an empty house. And now I’m going to give you some advice.’ 

‘Please don’t,’ Dean groaned, letting his head fall on the table. ‘No offense to anyone but I am so done with advice.’ 

‘None taken, I get that. The difference is, this isn’t my advice. Not really. I talked to Cas this morning.’ 

‘The hell did you do that for?’ Dean asked, sitting up in his chair. He could imagine the many thousands of ways that conversation could have gone wrong. Cas hadn’t exactly been left alone often with Garth, they didn't know each other that well, so it had probably been a disaster, and Cas was probably now even more angry at the entire situation ...

‘Chill. I just thought it was about time someone asked Cas what he wanted in all of this. Everyone’s been so busy throwing advice at you that nobody’s talked to him. So I talked to him.’ 

When Garth said it, well, he made it sound so damn easy. Like it was just what Dean should have done all along and, alright, maybe having a conversation instead of trying to sleep with Cas might have been the way _some_ people would have done things, but Cas had to know he wasn’t like that. 

‘What I found out,’ Garth said, standing up and dumping the rest of his sandwich in the trash, ‘is that he’s worried you just want sex and not a relationship, so you’re going to have to talk about emotions. And now you have this entire house to yourself and some actual good advice under your belt, how you use it is up to you. I have a date with a poltergeist.’ 

He walked back to the table and pulled Dean up by the front of his shirt. Dean looked down and realised he was being hugged again. 'You can do this,' Garth said into his shoulder. 'It's all gonna be fine.' Then he pulled away and clucked to Killer. 'C'mon, boy, let's go.'

Before Dean had got his bearings again, Garth and Killer were gone and he was alone in the empty house, possibly for the first time ever. 

He debated just making a sandwich and going back to bed and telling Garth to piss off when he eventually came home, but he knew he wasn't going to. He sighed. 'I'm guessing you're listening,' he said, half to the ceiling. 'So are we gonna talk about this or what? I'll try not to be an ass this time.'

'I think we've both misunderstood each other quite badly,' Cas said. Dean turned around to see him leaning against the fridge. 'Apparently even if we're trying to be straightforward we can still confuse matters.'

'I think that's called the human condition, dude,' Dean said, shrugging and trying to deny the fact that seeing Cas again was settling the wound-tight feeling he'd had in his gut since they'd got back from Missouri and the whole Kumiho-engineered clusterfuck that hunt had been. 'Look, I probably should have … I didn't mean for you to get the idea that I don't like you, or want you around, because I do. All the time. More than I … probably a weird amount, okay?' He bit his lip. There was a word he was stepping around here. 'We're friends, right? And I don't ever want that to change.'

'It never will,' said Cas. 'It never can. Dean, you mean a great deal to me. We've been through more together than I ever thought was possible when we met. And I find myself wanting to be here with you even when I have no reason to be. I miss you when I'm away from you. And I thought - I tried to interpret that in the context of human relationships and I thought I'd worked out what we are to each other. Was I wrong?' He looked away for a moment, biting his lip. 

Dean's throat was dry. 'No,' he said, because he wasn't going to lie.

'Then why? I know that Sam and Charlie think you don't find my appearance in this vessel attractive -'

Dean winced. 'No, that's - no. It's not the attractiveness, Cas.'

'But it is the vessel?'

'You're a guy,' Dean said. 'And I don't - I'm crap at relationships anyway, and I've never even thought about being with a guy.' 

'That seems very limited,' Cas said, and Dean had to laugh. 'But if that is an important criterion for you then I can see why you rejected my offer.' He looked like he was squaring himself up to leave again. 'Thank you for explaining,' he said, and fuck, no, he'd got the wrong end of the stick again.

Dean said, 'No,' hurriedly. 'I mean. I never thought about it. But you - Cas, I can't let us keep on like we have been this last few weeks. It's hell, and we both know I'm not exaggerating that much.'

'We don't have to,' Cas said gently. 'The misunderstanding seems to be cleared up. I won't make further advances.'

'What if I want you to?' Dean said before he could stop himself. Cas stared at him, and he cleared his throat and went on. 'I mean, I don't want things to change, but maybe I want more of them? Maybe we can just … be ourselves, the way we always have but with … maybe if you wanted to try some stuff we could try it, and if I wanted to -'

'Dean?' Cas squinted like he could see past Dean's floundering around and get to the truth of it all. 

Dean shrugged. 'Don't give it a label,' he said. 'That's just gonna jinx us. But we've always been pretty good together without needing to put a name on it.'

'This is just playing with semantics,' Cas pointed out, but he pushed up off the fridge and slowly stepped towards Dean. 'You realise that?'

'Yeah, I know,' Dean said, taking a tentative step forwards himself. 'Humour me, man.'

‘I will,’ Cas said, almost too seriously. He was close, then. Within arms reach - but before Dean could reach for him Cas had taken the initiative, gripping Dean’s shoulders and pulling him forward into what had to be the most awkward hug in history. It took a second for Dean to respond, but once he did, bringing his arms up to wrap around Cas, it was a little better. 

‘I believe we should proceed with caution,’ Cas said, straight into his ear which was weird. ‘Neither of us have ever tried this before, we should take our time to explore the new options available to us.’ 

‘You want to go slow,’ Dean said with a grin. ‘Yeah, that works for me. No point in going so slow we die before we get started, though? Right?’ 

‘No, that should be avoided,’ Cas agreed, pulling back, and then they were kissing. Properly this time.

Cas kissed with the same kind of intensity and focus he brought to everything, and Dean didn’t know why he imagined this would be any different. Cas kissed Dean like he might find the secrets of the universe between Dean’s lips and Dean let him, losing himself in Cas just for a little while. 

Dean slid his hands down to the small of Cas's back and hung on, bunching his fingers in the fabric of Cas's coat. He had no idea how Garth had managed to get the house cleared but he was really freaking glad he had.

***

They moved to the couch and made out like teens, something Dean hadn’t done since he _was_ a teen. It was nice, just being close like that knowing it wasn’t just about sex and a race to the bedroom. Then they ate a frozen pizza Dean unearthed and played some X-box. 

As first dates went, it was kind of awesome. 

***

_Two Days Later_

'This pie,' said Dean, pointing with the knife at the multi-coloured portions of it he was currently serving up, 'is going to be awesome. I've been looking forward to this.' 

'Well maybe you should have eaten it sooner,' Charlie said, smiling at him across the table and winking.

'Maybe it needed to mature,' Dean shot back, shoving a plate at her.

'Maybe you just needed a kick up the ass.'

'And who delivered that kick up the ass?' Garth asked, waving his own fork at himself and waiting for his own plate.

'How about, you're all interfering bastards, but I'll forgive you because I'm magnanimous,' Dean suggested. 'As long as you all shut up and eat the goddamn pie.' He passed the rest of the plates around. 

'Are you sure you want us to enjoy this pie?' Charlie wanted to know. 'Maybe you want to keep this particular pie all for yourself. Maybe you'd like to take it up to your room and not come down for the whole week.'

'Maybe some whipped cream could get involved,' Becky added thoughtfully. 

'I'm not sure I'm comfortable with the connotations of eating this pie any more,' said Kevin dubiously, staring at his portion. 'I mean, it looks delicious, but … now it's a metaphor and all. I don't want Dean to shank me with a cake-fork when he realises what me eating his rainbow pie symbolises.'

'Pie symbolises pie,' said Dean flatly. 'There is no metaphor here, just delicious pie that Charlie baked and which we are all going to enjoy. Or else.'

'Yes Mom,' said Kevin, but he dutifully stuck his fork into the wobbling rainbow filling. 

'Actually I think we're all legitimately allowed to eat rainbow pie even if it is a metaphor,' Becky said thoughtfully around a mouthful of it. 'Except Garth.'

'What? Hey, why can't I have pie?' Garth said. He looked hurt. Dean could understand that. He'd be pretty hurt if you'd given him a slice of pie and then told him he couldn't eat it.'

'I dunno,' said Charlie. 'He is one end of our happy little spectrum. Saying he can't have rainbow pie is like saying that red and violet don't count as part of an actual rainbow just because they're at the edges.'

Sam had buried his face in his hands. Dean couldn't tell if he was shaking his head disapprovingly or giggling like a schoolgirl. 'Sammy, you got something to share with the class?' Dean asked him.

Kevin, who was closer, poked Sam in the ribs with his fork. 

'Am I allowed the pie or not?' Garth demanded. 

'You're allowed pie,' Sam said, straightening up and putting on a straight face. 'Becky, that was mean.'

'What? It's the truth! Actually, Garth, while we're talking about this - we bought you a little present at the merch booths people were setting up at the cinema. It was like a little con in there, it was great -' Becky had got up and was rooting around in her bag. '- I know I put it in here … aha!' She handed Garth a small object wrapped in tissue paper. 

Garth unwrapped it slowly, which was sensible of him. You never knew what anything Becky handed you was likely to be. Dean squinted as the wrappings fell away. It appeared to be a … plaque? The kind you hung up on a kid's bedroom door.

'Token Straight Guy' he read out slowly. 

'She's got you there,' said Sam, clapping Garth on the shoulder. 'I'm not sure you wanna necessarily put that on your door though.'

'No, I don't,' said Garth, staring round the table at them all. 'Guys, do you ever actually pay attention?' He snorted, and tossed the little sign into the middle of the table. 'This sign is totally inaccurate.'

'What?' Becky and Charlie chorused. 

'Didn't you wonder why the guest bed never got slept in at Apocalypsemas?' he asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

Dean thought back. 'Well, Kevin's mom was on the trundle-bed in Kevin's room,' he said, ticking it off on his fingers. 'Kevin was apparently in Sam's room -' Kevin blushed. '- Cas didn't stay over, which leaves -'

' _Benny?_ ' Sam said disbelievingly.

'Dude,' said Dean, completely at a loss as to what the right thing to do was. On the one hand, Garth had apparently screwed his friend and he should probably find out what the hell went on; on the other he just didn’t want to know. 

Garth made a smug face around his mouthful of pie, and shrugged.

'What has Benny done?' asked Cas with some interest, appearing in the doorway to the living room.

'Played for both teams, apparently,' Dean said, subtly pushing the empty chair next to him out with his foot. 

Cas sat down on it and smiled at him. 'Is that some kind of sporting faux pas?' he said. 'It would probably be inconvenient if both of his teams were competing against each other -'

Charlie rolled her eyes fondly. She was convinced, as she'd told Dean a heap of times, that Cas played up his whole 'I don't understand that reference' thing. 'No, dude,' she said. 'He means Benny sleeps with girls and guys.'

'And Garth, apparently,' Dean added, slipping his hand off his thigh and down to his side to catch Cas's and tangle their fingers together. 

'My roommate is not going to believe this,' Kevin said, shaking his head. 'I actually live in some kind of bisexual occult murder-cult commune.'

'Don't _tell_ people that!' Becky said, affronted. 'Also Charlie isn't bi.'

'I don't need to be, everyone else in this house is clearly getting so much dick that you and I should probably be upstairs banging right now just to even things out,' Charlie pointed out. She pulled Becky into a half-cuddle, half-headlock, and kissed her on the top of her head. 

'Oh my God, could you not? I thought we had a policy about PDA in this house?' Dean asked, pretending to hide his eyes. 

'Says the guy holding hands and playing footsie with his not-boyfriend at the dinner table,' Sam pointed out. 'That was my ankle you just molested, by the way.'

'I am not playing footsie, thank you very much,' said Dean, rolling his eyes.

'... sorry,' said Cas to Sam sheepishly. 

'There, are you happy?' Sam asked Dean, mouth twitching like he badly wanted to grin and was trying to hold it back. 'You've corrupted an angel of the Lord.'

‘Am corrupting, Sam. Get it right,’ Dean said with a grin. Just because he maybe wasn’t entirely comfortable with this still didn’t mean he wouldn’t take the chance to get one up on Sam when he could. ‘Also, you already corrupted a prophet of the Lord.’ 

‘Love is not a corruption,’ Cas said, taking a fork-full of Dean’s pie. Dean didn’t try to stop him taking the pie, which said a lot about how far they’d come. 

He also didn’t contradict him.


End file.
